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!
The parcel that Pierre had her was huge. So huge that his tiny little runt of an owl-cross-pygmy puff thing couldn't carry it on it's own, and needed Vinda's owl to help him out. But despite Vinda's rather negative opinion of Pierre's owl, she had to say now that had the parcel swaddled in both of her small arms, that she could see why it was a two owl job. She could barely lift the thing. If she had her wand, she'd most certainly be levitating it by now, but she'd left it in her dormitories by mistake, a rare thing from her.
Travelling down the corridor towards the boy's dorms, Vinda used her hip to knock open the door to the seventh year boy's room, freely helping herself. By now, her appearance in the dormitories wasn't that uncommon, given that Willy had been her best friend forever, and Vinda wasn't shy in taking what she wanted. Often, what she wanted was a visit to the dorms to hang out and gossip with Willy about the tragic lives of their peers.
Delicately dropping her parcel on a nearby table, Vinda strode over to his Willy's bed. Taking a hold of the silky, forest green curtains, she yanked them open. "Rise and shine if you're not dead from whatever you took last night, William. I've got a job for you," she said, hands planting on her hips. "Your opinion is the only opinion I trust. All of the other girls in sixth year look like they got dressed in the dark after taking fashion tips from a hag in 1989... and Flora does too, at the best of times. Perhaps I ought to buy her a mirror for Christmas..."
Post by WILLIAM WAGTAIL on Jul 28, 2019 10:52:01 GMT
Falling. It was a sensation in a dream that would make most people jerk back into consciousness but it was one of Willy's favourite dreams. Wrapped up nice and warmly under his own luxurious sheets (the ones supplied by Hogwarts were squarely tucked away in a charmed, space saving box beneath the bed), Willy was sleeping off the wicked concoction of billywig sting slime, powdered alihosty mixed in with sopophorous bean juice... thankfully the mixture perfected by his father only caused mild memory loss - similar to a heavy night of drinking. The seventh year Slytherin had always enjoyed a good bit of alcohol or mood-enhancing drug use but since his father had passed, Willy might have become a little more liberal in its usage. The sensation of falling abruptly stopped with an overwhelming wave of light and...
"...ughhh what?" Willy groaned as his eyes tried to focus despite the light that shone in his direction as if it were the sun and he was only 2 metres away from the damned thing. Groggily the wizard retracted further into a fetal position and pulled the blanket over his head; the Abraxan down feathers that filled it managed to effectively muffle most of the screeching sound that he normally quite enjoyed (aka Vinda's melodic voice).
"All of the other girls, Vinda? Must I really prove to you again that I am not one of them?" Willy replied rather sassily from under the sheets. "A mirror isn't going to fix Flora's problem … I think you're going to have to take full control of her wardrobe post haste," came yet another groan. "Either get in and curl up OR turn off the sun and... maybe I'll come out." Under those blankets, just FYI, Willy was still fully clothed including the leather jacket and boots.
As William stirred, Vinda watched him with a face that was strictly unamused because she needed him to help and pronto. Choosing a dress was very important - although, with her makeup skills and the way her hair was expertly coloured to match her complexion and the fact that she put so much effort into keeping her body fit and limber, she was already miles ahead of the other girls and boys in her year. Some of them had really let themselves go. Too much butterbeer led to a gut, it seemed, but it was their fault. She felt zero sympathy, just as she did towards her mother. They were the ones who lifted the drink to their mouths. "You sound so uncivilised groaning like that, William. At least try and form proper sentences in my presence. It's not that hard, see," she said, before leaning over and attempting to yank it down past his face. But she wasn't too successful, and Vinda's foot stomped on the ground in annoyance. She wasn't getting her way, and she didn't like that one single bit.
"Showing me your chest tells me nothing. For all I know, you could be one of those girls who are as flat as a board. Like... like Grace Longbottom. Heaven help her if she ever gets a boyfriend. How awfully disappointed they will be," Vinda said, though she stopped her bitching as she took in Willy's advice of taking control of Flora's wardrobe. That wasn't a bad idea... the thought of dressing her sister cousin up was tempting.
But then William was ordering her about like some common house elf, and that was something she didn't normally take kindly to, except from him. He was the only one beside her brother that she considered to be somewhat on her level. Kicking off her shoes like a civilised human being, Vinda took William up on his offer and moved beneath the blanket to curl up next to him. Resting her face on the pillow, Vinda studied Willy's face carefully, taking in the light stubble across his jaw to the way his eyes, usually a bright blue, were tinged with red as well. No doubt the result of some hardcore partying.
Frowning for a split second as she wondered if this was the right time to tell him, Vinda decided there was no time like the present and she forced a smile onto her face, something rare coming from her. It didn't meet her eyes, however. She wasn't genuinely excited... and probably never would be about her big news. "I can't get changed under here, so now you won't get to see all of the magnificent dresses I could be wearing to the ball... for... for my fiance, or... betrothed, I suppose you'd call him. I just hope he can dress himself. It wouldn't be good to be made a fool of at our first public event together."
Post by WILLIAM WAGTAIL on Aug 5, 2019 8:27:05 GMT
Just as childish as his female counterpart, who was stomping like a freaking ELEPHANT according to Willy's sore-arse head, the dolt that is Roo's Willy mentally made 'blah blah blah' movements with his jaw. In reality, his jaw barely moved at all because the thought wasn't quite connecting to the muscle movement but he did manage to roll his awfully red eyes grumbly under those blankets. Like lightning, Willy managed to keep a grasp of the blanket when Vinda attempted to tug them down though. Huh. He could move still.
"Pah! I'm sure if I focused hard enough I could have a chest even you'd be jealous of," Willy retorted, clearly put out that Vinda had decided to misunderstand his offer of a show. "How long have you been eyein' off Longbottom's boobs then? Tell me all about it," William said with a rather greasy grin; he quite liked the mental image that was popping through his hazy brain right now. Vinda would definitely wear the pants in this situation... if only Willy could convince her how rockin' her arse would look in a tight latex mini.
William heard the sound of shoes dropping on the floor and the grin turned into something much more friendly, sedate even. Comfortable. He held the blanket a little to help - he felt like he held it up to the sky but in reality, it was maybe an inch higher than if he hadn't bothered at all. He lazily watched the girl get comfortable next to him and snaked an arm over her waist. This was nice.. That little dip in a girl's side where her hips sloped down to the bed and her ribcage curved back up... that was sacred spot of warmth and comfort for an arm. He gave a long, contented sigh and groggily smiled under the hard gaze of his friend.
"Yes I agree putting on a dress is the exact opposite of what's meant to happen under these sheets," Willy murmured, interrupting and missing all but fiance. Immediately, William's attention became focused with his otherwise foggy eyes narrowing, his relaxed arm that lazed over her was a little less so. "Wait wait wait... betrothed? Selwyn you MINX. Who is it?" William could hardly believe that the girl curled up beside him was... betrothed and the shock showed on his hungover face. "... Merlin have mercy please tell me we have control of his wardrobe before the event? I don't care who it is - none of these kids have an ounce of fashion sense. Some are naturally good looking and that's the only going to take them so far."
"You'd have to know how to discipline your gift to growget even a minuscule hair on your chest, let allow spout breasts," Vinda said, voice turning cool rather rapidly because in all honesty, a chest she would be jealous of? It wouldn't be hard, but she wasn't about to let Willy in on that insecurity of hers. She didn't like that particular feature of hers when she looked in the mirror - in fact, Vinda's own younger sister cousin had bigger breasts than she did, something which had Vinda quietly seething as she inspected every inch of her appearance carefully in the mirror each morning to make sure it was up to par.
But then William had the gall to suggest that she'd be 'eyeing off Longbottom' and the look she shot William was scathing because, "What boobs? I believe ogling people is more your forte, William." Vinda didn't stoop to ogling many people, except to criticise what they were wearing, or the side they decided to part their hair on, or even the way they walked. Some people walked like they were that hunchback that lurked around the Leaky Cauldron, and it was enough to make Vinda want to incendio her eyes out.
The pressure of William's arm snaking around her waist was enough to let Vinda relax for a minute, melting back into Willly's chest that radiated warmth and comfort and safety. She even closed her eyes briefly, exhaling slowly. It was rare that she was comfortable enough to wind down as usually, she was drawn as tight as a coil, ready to snap at any given moment. His words the next moment later had Vinda's eyes peeking open again, lips twitching for a split second with amusement. "It's an impressive feat that you can remember what happens under your sheets... I'd be even more impressed if you could tell me what happens with whom."
But then suddenly her news seemed to register and Vinda let out a very uncouth shriek as the hand around her waist tightened because whilst she was expecting... something, she wasn't expecting for his hand to grow as heavy as steel. "It's -" But then Willy was claiming he didn't care who it was and Vinda's entire expression grew affronted because, "Firstly, I'm to spend the rest of my life with this boy - who I suppose is... decent looking - and you don't care who it is? Secondly, I thought we were deciding what I'm wearing. Not him. Merlin, William, it's like you don't care about me at all."
Post by WILLIAM WAGTAIL on Aug 13, 2019 10:36:34 GMT
"Bitch please, I have an amazing amount of control with my gift, thank you," came the indigant reply from under the covers, followed quickly by, "I'm not like those lame sons of bitches whose hair changes with their mood or something so terribly dull. This fabulousness takes work. You know this and that's why you love me," Willy finished the thought with a sing-song, playful mode because it was true. Their mutual love of the totally fab was why their bond was strong and true. Despite her misgivings about some of his more narcotic activities, Willy could always bring them back to that.
"Got me there," Willy replied to Vinda's assertion that he was the ogler of the pair, "but I do a lot more than just oggle most of the time." Willy had that unearthly teenage male bravado, where he puts a zero after the actual amount of people he's slept with completely unconsciously. With Vinda snuggled comfortably into his embrace, Willy chuckled when she reproached him about his activities beneath the sheets. "Yeah no, they don't make a remembrall for that. Besides, it's not gentlemanly to shag and tell. If you ever want the details though..."
Things went downhill fast as Willy's reaction to Vinda's engagement news had the girl shreiking and Willy was too stupid to realise that it was his grasp on her causing the problem. "Wha- what?!" his face contorted in a pained frown and it only deepened as Vinda was growling at him about not caring about who she was marrying. "Wha---? Of course I bloody care, I asked who it was. Why are you being so cagey?" Willy hadn't realised that there was a miscommunication; that he meant he didn't care who it was because almost all the other boys at school had no fashion sense not that he didn't care who she was marrying.
"I care about what everyone's wearing," William grumbled, "it's like... my one redeeming quality... oh my Merlin, I demand to be present when you go wedding dress shopping. Wait... Vinda why are you engaged? You never even told me you liked anyone let alone were romantically involved with any of them."
"Those sons of bitches, as you so... eloquently call them, will soon realise that their hair changing colour with their mood is a weakness. Why would you want everyone to know what you're feeling?" It just led to people being able to hurt you easier, to operate a precise attack and take you out the best way they knew how. Not learning how to control your metamorphmagus abilities was foolish, a trait reserved primarily for Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. "You do look fabulous most of the time though, I'll give you that... though is the competition really that stiff?" Judging by the appearance of all the other males in their classroom... no.
"That's because you have no shame," Vinda said with a click of her tongue, but truthfully... people responded to a nice smile which Willy did have, and an exciting demeanor, something Willy also had. She was sure that with those weapons in his hands, it didn't take much for some of the... looser students to spread their legs for him. Willy's suggestion that she might want the details made Vinda's nose scrunch up because, "I don't really desire hearing about you and some slag getting it on like inelegant rabbits, William. I don't want to hear about where either because I like being able to sit down in a spot without thinking 'William's had his bare arse there.'"
"Merde, Willy. Move your arm. You're squishing me," Vinda swore, pushing Willy's arm until it rested lower on her hip instead. At least them she wasn't suffocating via her frail ribcage. But then Willy made things worse by throwing around the accusation that she was cagey. "I'm not being cagey. I just don't -" Realisation struck a moment later when Willy explained that he cared about what people were wearing, and the words 'of course I bloody care' hit her. Tilting her chin up, refusing to be embarrassed because embarrassment was weak, Vinda said, "It's... Adrian Anderson. I don't think you know him, but he's a pureblood and grand-mère thought we'd be a suitable match. She wants grandchildren and since none of the family can imagine Pierre even holding hands with a woman, I'm the next best choice to carry on the bloodline. Naturally."
There, she'd answered his question all in one go. She'd told him who was responsible for the... engagement, though she refused to admit to the rest of the world that her engagement was actually a betrothal instead. She didn't want people thinking her family were a bunch of puppeteers, controlling her every move with a line of string, because then they'd know... they were her weak point. "I'm not romantically involved with anyone, nor do I 'like' anyone. Don't be ridiculous, William. Nobody in Hogwarts is up to scratch for me to like them or to consider a romantic entanglement of my own regards, let alone a... anything else intimate."
Post by WILLIAM WAGTAIL on Sept 4, 2019 17:16:03 GMT
From beneath the covers, Willy was smiling triumphantly because Ha!”My eloquence transcends inebriation as if I were an omniscient being of tremendous power,” Willy boasted, though it was considerably less impressive in its deliverance, as it took a good few seconds pause between each word. ”Lame sons of bitches will kiss muh feet.” Ok. It’s official. Willy has a thing for feet. ”And .... shit.”
Stiff. A deep chuckle tumbled from within as Vinda asked if the competition was stiff. Something certainly had been last night, Willy was sure of it. ”Don’t be a little B, Vinda, I slay 50% of the time and that’s only cuz you’re the other 50,” Willy grinned easily at the other fashion royalty, cuddling up to him in the super comfy and warm bed.
”I have shame. I just neatly pack it away in a box under the bed,” Willy winked, though he wasn’t lying when he said he compartmentalised his shame. His money-hungry cheating mother and her devil-spawn son were a very well known point of shame for the Wagtails that Willy enjoyed pulling out a picture of routinely to stick a big old middle finger at whenever he was feeling particularly spiteful. ”Inellegant rabbits? ... where the fuck are the elegant rabbits Vinda?” no doubt they would feature prominently in his next bender. ”You sure? I guess that’s for the best. I’m too fucked to assist you if my stories got you too hot under that collar of yours,” Willy gave Vinda a very lazy, cheeky grin.
With Vinda swearing and moving his arm, he instinctually grasped her hip as he would any other bedfellow. It was a nice hip. Don’t stroke the hi-”Sorry. Sorry,” yep he was stroking the skin with his thumb as an apology. Nothing else. Nope.
”Anderson. Nope. Rings literally zero bells,” Willy lied, though why he did will remain a mystery to him. ”Vinda Anderson. Merlin, you got the raw end of the deal in pureblood family tradition if Pierre just gets to... do you like Anderson?” William’s face was full of true concern now. Merlin, how can arranged marriages still be a thing in 2018?
”Well yes, I can see no one is anywhere good enough. But I’ve been surprised more than once with people’s ... choices. So... what’s the plan? Not tell a soul at Hogwarts?”
Vinda was just about to comment Willy's painfully slow delivery of his words, asking if he'd perhaps belonged in Hufflepuff instead for talking like a simpleton, when he started talking about feet. Vinda's brows raised before she conceded, "Well, at least if they fall to their knees in your house, the carpet should be comfortable. A vast improvement from the flooring at Hogwarts, I'm sure." Not that she'd know. She wouldn't, in a million years, degrade herself by touchy the filthy concrete floors most of the castle had to offer. "Perhaps you're more informed when it comes to that front, William."
Willy was laughing at her and Vinda had no idea what was so funny to him. It made her eyes narrow in his direction though her mild annoyance was softened a moment later by his compliment. "I'm 50%? Really, Willy, it's more like 80% and in my favour." She didn't entirely mean what she said and a slight hint of a smile graced her lips. She supposed that she could concede and say he was 30%, purely because he actually bought his own clothes until the other idiots at Hogwarts who relied on their mothers with tragic fashion sense to do it for them.
"A literal way to compartmentalise. How clever, " Vinda said, though she completely disregarded his winking at her. But then he had the gall to question her about her turn of phrase about the rabbits and she sniffed. "Belgian hares are known to be the most intelligent breed of rabbit, actually, so I daresay that's where they are - or, were. They're not all in Belgium anymore." It was... a surprising fact, to say the least, that Vinda knew something about rabbits but she prided herself on being knowledgeable.
Willy was... brazen, that was for sure, and it actually sent a rare tinge of warmth through Vinda's body. It wasn't like she hadn't thought of him that way - in fact, given he was the only male in all of Hogwarts who actually wanted to spend time with her, she'd say it was only natural - but he was only teasing her, and she knew this. "If you ask some of my trashier roommates, they'll tell you that apparently a wand does me just fine." No, wait, not like... Vinda hated not being able to convey her point properly and so she leveled him with a look that said, 'Tell anyone I said that and I'll poison you at breakfast.'
The tingle that had moved through her turned into a bolt of lightning as Willy grasped her hip, stroking the skin that peeked through her shirt and tailored pants. Instead of telling him to stop, she kept quiet. It felt nice, but she didn't want to admit that aloud... and so her body did so without her express permission, an involuntary shiver running up her spine that she hoped he hadn't noticed.
"He'll be taking my name or I'll be hyphenating mine. I refuse to have a commoner name like Anderson. My father's a Selwyn, my mother's a Rosier by birth. Anderson is répugnante and certainly not a name that suits me," Vinda stated, voice as stiff as ice because she hadn't even thought of the fact she'd be named Vinda Anderson, believe it or not.Willy's question of whether she actually liked Adrian had her pausing before she said, voice definitely not trembling, "It doesn't matter whether I like him or not, Willy. I don't have a choice."
The plan was asked and Vinda's voice grew resolute because she'd thought this through. "People will find out eventually. It's only a year until we're both seventeen. I don't want it to blindside people, nor do I want people to think that this wasn't my choice. If people realise that my family - well, that's just opening them up to my few and far between vulnerable spots and weaknesses, isn't it? The plan is to make everyone think we got together... organically. Like I want to... like I'd be genuinely attracted to him."
The parcel that Pierre had her was huge. So huge that his tiny little runt of an owl-cross-pygmy puff thing couldn't carry it on it's own, and needed Vinda's owl to help him out. But despite Vinda's rather negative opinion of Pierre's owl, she had to say now that had the parcel swaddled in both of her small arms, that she could see why it was a two owl job. She could barely lift the thing. If she had her wand, she'd most certainly be levitating it by now, but she'd left it in her dormitories by mistake, a rare thing from her.
