We are a post-Potter roleplay set in 2019.
We have an active character driven plot, a short app and no word count.
It's July 2019 and at the moment, the wizarding world is facing a lot of tension with the werewolf community.
This is a result of anti-werewolf legislation being passed in 2016 after a series of brutal attacks.
Unfortunately, this legislation passing hasn't achieved anything.
Werewolves can't find jobs and without a source of income, this has left a lot of them facing poverty.
But instead of taking it laying down, there's starting to be waves of attacks once more.
How will the Ministry of Magic solve this problem now? Is it too late?
One pack, The Trossachs, have decided that an obvious solution is to no longer be a minority. The more wolves, the better.
Yet another pack, known as The Cotswolds, believe that approach will only deepen the mistrust and ostracism faced by the werewolf community.
Instead, this group, led by an independently wealthy werewolf means aims to educate the ignorant wizarding community and change legislation by winning the support of the majority.
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 SAMANTHA BANKS on Sept 28, 2019 23:45:15 GMT
This was a crazy idea, Samantha told herself as she landed her broom in a field outside of the farm. It was dangerous. It could backfire so easily--after that incident in Diagon Alley, she had not even been able to convince herself to show her face in London for a while yet. Not until it was likely that the Aurors forgot who she was--or until she could find herself some sort of disguise. And it wasn't normal for her to go so far away from the cottage as she was now.
But hearing about the man had intrigued her. Most of the werewolves in the country had next to nothing. So many of her own pack members lived in tents, still barely comfortable even with the use of magic--one couldn't conjure everything, after all. A werewolf who willingly came to this country, who, like her, owned land, who had this wealth on his own to tell the ministry to bugger off--that was a rare person to come across.
And she needed him on her side, not Tyr's.
Today she didn't plan to tell him who she was, and certainly not to tell him that she was a werewolf. That was for much later, when she knew whether he would be a security risk or not. For all he would know, she was a kindly neighbor from the next town over who simply happened to be a witch. She needed the meeting to figure him out in a way she couldn't do through letters. And yet she hadn't sent Teddy--no, she needed to see this man for himself, to know how he got here, what his motivations were.
She approached the ranch's gate, immediately feeling overdressed in her blouse and new jeans, but it was too late to change now. Peering into the farm, she searched for any hint of its owner.
Post by MARSHALL TOFT on Sept 29, 2019 3:29:17 GMT
i fell into a burning ring of fire
Another day, another dollar. Well...at least that would be the case if he made dollars anymore. Moving from Alabama to Ireland had been tough enough, but it had been what his granddad wanted to do, and Marshall never owned anything until after his granddad died. Still, there was beauty in the land. It was colder in Ireland than it was back home, and adjusting to cold winters was a bit of a struggle, but he liked it despite all that.
One of his alarms went off, silent to everyone but him (and his workers if he had any), and he perked up. It wasn't late enough for it to be vandals, so he wasn't concerned. It was probably a customer, someone looking to buy or sell a horse. He was hoping it wasn't the latter. He had more than enough horses. He finished corralling the last of the aethonans into their stable before he got back onto his own horse, a black mustang named Onyx. He liked winged horses of all kinds, but he found riding more cathartic when it was on the ground.
It didn't take him too long to find the visitor. She was a pretty blonde woman who didn't look like she belonged anywhere around horses. Not unless she was looking for a racehorse. Luckily for her, he had a few. "Evening ma'am," he told her, his voice exposing his Southern upbringing. He dismounted his horse and held onto the lead with one hand while offering another to the stranger. "I'm Marshall Toft, the owner of this establishment. Anything I can help you with?"
Post by SAMANTHA BANKS on Oct 2, 2019 19:02:15 GMT
"Good evening. I'm Sophie Thompson, it's nice to meet you." Samantha took off a leather glove and extended her hand to Marshall, her handshake strong despite her size. She never liked those with limp handshakes; she herself never wanted to seem so weak unless a disguise called for it. Being involved with bankers and stockbrokers meant she'd had to learn to be brisk and businesslike.
She had known that the man was American, but as he spoke to her, she was almost taken aback by the strength of his Southern accent. It was true, most of the Americans she'd met in her life had been from New York or Boston, and she had to remind herself that there were so many accents across the pond just as there were here. Samantha knew her own marked her as wealthy, from the South East, and she hoped the man didn't recognize quite yet that she was not truly a neighbor.
"I heard you'd taken over the farm, and I just wanted to come welcome you. I'm a witch, you see, and it's always nice to meet another one of us. It's a small world, the wizarding world." Her voice was warm, even if her words didn't tell the whole truth. "And besides, I do love animals, so of course I'd take the chance to come see them. I have several dogs myself, and I've thought about owning horses, but I simply don't have the place for them right now." That was the truth, although she'd left out that she could build a stable for herself if she wasn't putting most of her income into making sure the pack was fed and keeping their morale high.
Marshall shook her hand and nodded. He wasn't the type to trust someone straight away, no matter how pretty they were. His distrust grew when she said that she'd come to welcome him. He'd worked the farm since his granddad bought it. He'd met all the neighbors. It was difficult to forget people who seemed to dislike him actively.
"Ma'am, I really don't mean to be rude, but you're not one of my neighbors, so you have no need to welcome me. I know my neighbors, and there ain't one of them half as polite as you. I mean no offense, of course. Your business is your own, and I won't pry, but I just want us to be clear." Despite how blunt he was being, Marshall managed to keep his tone respectful and kind.
"If you're lookin' for horses, I've got plenty, and I lodge them for a fair price too. I'd be happy to take you to the stables if you want to see the lot unless you're here for somethin' else. I ain't plannin' on sellin' the land though if that's what you're lookin' for. Again, not to be rude, I just don't want to waste any of your time."
He truly did talk like he was right out of a cowboy movie, didn't he? Merlin, it had been years since Samantha had seen a cowboy movie. She did have a TV--it wasn't so easy, being Muggleborn, to cut out all the electric things she'd grown up with, even after knowing she was a witch since she was eleven--but had more been keeping up with world news from the BBC than anything.
"Not a neighbor as such, no, but a witch, so I'm sure I would have met you sooner or later," she said, trying to keep control of the conversation. It was always important, most of all, to be secure, and even though the man said he wouldn't pry, she couldn't say he entirely trusted him. He was polite, but Samantha had met plenty of people in her life who were polite on the outside but ruthless on the inside. In all her years of working with investors to secure her place in the London stock market, she knew that well. She would need to get to know this Toft before knowing if she ever wanted to see his face again beyond this day. If he was the kind of person who would help their cause, or not.
"I've got land of my own, no need to worry about that. I'd love to see the horses, though. If you have time for that, of course." It wasn't faking to say that she appreciated the animals, and she hoped it showed on her face.
Post by MARSHALL TOFT on Dec 11, 2019 19:27:59 GMT
i fell into a burning ring of fire
Marshall raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm ain't too sure about that if I'm bein' honest. I don't get out much, but I appreciate the sentiment." This was true. Marshall usually didn't have to get out much. He was pretty self efficient on the farm and only ever really went out if he needed social interaction.
When she asked to see the horses he said, "That I can do, as long as your alright with walking through in the stables. Some of them are out in the pasture, though, so if you're keen on seein' all of them you might need some boots. My cousin's kid has a pair somewhere that might fit you if you're not above wearing a teenager's shoes, but I'm guessin' we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
He led her towards the stables, making a breif shpeil about his stock, casually adding that he had some aethonans if she was looking for that breed. "Fair warning, though, if I have to sell another aethonan to someone that names the poor beast 'Pegasus' I might kill myself." As they entered the stables he pointed over at a mound of blankets next to a locked door. "Be careful around that. Ruby just had kittens about a week ago so and she's a touch protective right now, but that just means I'll have five more mousers in about ten weeks so that'll be something." Most people wouldn't think it but Marshall loved cats and he'd been downright giddy when the kittens were born. There were at least a dozen cats around the farm. Marshall said that it was because cats ate mice and mice loved to get in the horses' grain and oats, but that was only partially true. "So, miss, what exactly were you lookin' for today?"
Post by SAMANTHA BANKS on Dec 23, 2019 0:58:55 GMT
"A homebody of sorts, then? I can understand the desire. I'm sure you have everything you need here, with the farm." It was remarkably like her own land, except that Samantha had never been a farmer. A gardener, yes, that she was, but most of her land was given over to grasslands and flower meadows and little patches of forest. Places to walk with her dogs, to enjoy the fresh air, and sometimes, to shelter other werewolves on a piece of private land where they were wanted around.
She glanced down at her ankle boots, suddenly feeling like they weren't quite what Toft had expected from his visitors. Not tall enough to walk around the farm, perhaps, or with not enough heel--but Samantha hadn't ridden a horse in ages, and she hadn't expected to need that sort of boot. "I don't mind borrowing, if it's needed. My feet are small enough, they'll fit in whatever you have, I'm sure." In her mind, she reprimanded herself for wanting so much to seem put-together and fashionable. She couldn't have known it before meeting him, but she had the distinct feeling that he would have been friendlier to someone in work clothes.
"May I see the kittens, or would that be too much for them right now, at their age?" she asked, following the man into the barn. "I have only dogs right now. I'm mostly a dog person, but I'd love a cat, though I don't know how they'd feel about a kitten. I'm not sure that they've ever met one before." With all luck the dogs would simply view it as a new creature to play with, but she couldn't guarantee that.
He shrugged and reached up to scratch the back of his neck when she asked if he was a homebody. In truth, he didn't used to be. He used to be a social creature. even after he'd been bitter, but it was harder in the United Kingdom. "I guess you could say that. Plus I don't have as many friends here as I did back home. Just my cousin and his kid, but that's beside the point, I figure" He was aware of the fact that his sleeve had slid up his sleeve, revealing part of the scar on his bicep from when his mother had bitten him. He'd only been a boy then. Despite everything, he wasn't afraid of her seeing what he was. If anyone had issues with who he was then, frankly, they could take the business elsewhere.
Marshall shrugged and said, "Well if you get into a mud hole or anythin', just let me know." He thought that she'd likely be alright with her footwear. but he knew that mud holes could go deep. He more wanted her to be prepared. He wasn't really the type to shame or mock others. Well...rarely, and when he did the people almost always deserved it, but Miss Banks seemed a decent sort...for the time being at least.
It took a moment of consideration before Marshall decided that it wouldn't be an trouble to show her the kittens, as long as she didn't want to hold them. "Alright, if you're alright with not holding them." He led her over to the hay pile with the kittens, calling to their mother before sitting in front of their little nest, crossing his long legs under him. Ruby, a long orange queen meowed indignantly when she saw him. They were interrupting feeding time. Still, she seemed happier when he offered her a bit of bacon from his shirt pocket. As he pointed out the kittens he said, "The black one's a girl, goes by Cinder. The ones that look like their mama are both boys, Rusty and Cheddar. The white's a boy, call him Milk because he's got one hell of an appetite and...well, milk's white.The grey's a girl, named Ghost." The grey one had almost died, partially on account of being the runt of the litter, but she was a fighter.
Post by SAMANTHA BANKS on Jan 11, 2020 17:23:11 GMT
The man was a loner of sorts, then. Perhaps he really had come from a cowboy movie. Samantha had only ever been to New York, and that was decades and decades ago; she couldn't say what life must be like out in the west, but perhaps it was more cowboy-like than she'd assumed. "Well, family can certainly be friends, can't they?" Even as she said the words, Samantha knew that for her it should be flipped. She didn't have family, hadn't had family in a very long time, at least not any who were alive. It wasn't as if she'd been especially close to her parents, even if she still missed them deeply. And no siblings, no wife, no children--it was friends who had to become family for her.
She couldn't help but let her gaze rest on the scars Toft revealed, just for a moment, being curious but far too polite to stare. Knowing what she did about him, she couldn't believe he was so open about having them. Her own were so hidden. Having them on her torso made it easy enough; it wasn't as if she was inclined to go to any beaches in bikinis, but still, she took care not to let anyone see. Even for the Muggles she often worked with at the banks, who wouldn't know what the scars meant, she didn't need to invite any questions. A little self-consciously, she let a hand drift to her side, as if checking for them to be covered even though she knew they were.
It was only when the man finally moved over to the kittens that she could force herself to ignore the space on her skin where she knew the scars rested. Crouching down, she couldn't help but smile at the little balls of fur and their equally fluffy mother. "I know I've barely met you, but I can tell you truly care about these animals," she said, a soft tone in her voice. "I always tend to think animals are too good for us humans, you know?" Samantha, even after everything, had never really stopped thinking of herself as human.
Post by MARSHALL TOFT on Jan 25, 2020 19:19:39 GMT
i fell into a burning ring of fire
"I suppose so," Marshall said. "Family can be shit though, pardon my french. I figure family is what you make of it. Varies from person to person. What matters is people and how they treat each other, not so much blood ties...not that you asked. Sorry. I didn't mean to come off...preachy."
Marshall wasn't unaware of the way Samantha had seen his scars. She didn't seem afraid, which was honestly a bit of a relief. Still, he wasn't in the business of hiding who he was. "If it makes you uncomfortable I can roll my sleeves down. And if you want to take your business elsewhere I understand, but I can assure you that the only beasts you'll find around here that's big enough to hurt anything are of the equine type."
Marshall smiled a bit and gave Ruby's chin an affectionate scratch, which the cat leaned into. "Yeah. Animals are easier to love than people. Not to say that all people are bad. I've met my share of good people, but as far as statistics go animals are just...better."
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