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 loud crash tore Jānis out of his slumber. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and an overwhelming sense of dread sent pins and needles down his entire body. Yet his eyelids didn't hurry to open, wanting the man to just turn on his side and go back to sleep like nothing had happened. He started rubbing his face with his palms, quietly groaning -- everything felt so stiff, as if he hadn't moved the entire night. Eventually he opened his eyes and sat up, propping himself up on his elbows.
"Ugh," he groaned again as the night came back to him. He'd been at a dingy muggle bar, spending the little pocket money he had on getting absolutely shitfaced. There were vague memories of a drinking contest, and of a woman. A woman... A light smile appeared on his face as he closed his eyes, indulging himself in the memories of the night they spent. She was good, there was no denying that. Alas, Jānis couldn't recall her name...But then again, did it really matter? She was probably long gone, and they wouldn't meet again.
After a few minutes of reminiscing, the man finally begun to assess his surroundings. He was in a room just as dingy as the bar he had been in -- currently, the only light source was a partially covered window, the old wooden shutters of which had been the source of the loud noise and there were rather promiscuous posters on the wall. Only now did it dawn upon him that he was still only in his briefs, so he sat up to look for his clothes.
As he was sitting up, his hand bumped into something. Or, to be more precise, someone. It gave Jānis a scare, making him jump up and spin around on his heel, looking at the couch he and the other person had been sleeping on. A string of Latvian curses left his mouth as he stared at her.
Post by TERESA NOTTINGHAM on Dec 28, 2019 9:29:30 GMT
Bļāviens jūrā. The sound of foreign words floating into Teresa's ears had the young woman blinking awake, wondering if she'd somehow managed to apparate to a completely different country. One that maybe was a bit nicer than the hell hole that was England at the moment. But as a face appeared in front of her eyes, going from blurry to sharp within a few seconds, she realised that was not the case because there was the man she'd had a drinking contest with last night in a very unfortunately English pub. "That sounds Baltic," Teresa muttered in his direction, before sitting up. "Good morning to you too."
Trying to get her bearings, her head throbbing, Teresa took in her surroundings of the shabby room. To put it bluntly, it was a shit hole, but if memory served right then it was a free shit hole. One that Teresa had the pleasure of 'alohomora'ing open last night in between breathless kisses and wandering hands with the guy who stood nearby. What was his name again? Had she even asked for it? Knowing her... probably not. She had taken ownership of his shirt to sleep in, however, she realised as she glanced down at her front before her gaze darted back to him.
Drunk Teresa apparently had excellent choice in men because this guy? He was was easy on the eyes with longish hair that curled around his ears, and a soft jawline. Eyes trailing down, intending to take him in fully, Teresa paused at the scars that littered his chest. She had very similar ones on her back, ones that the Healers weren't quite able to get rid of despite all their balms and potions. She also had an eerily similar bite on the side of her thigh to the one he had on his left shoulder. "You're a werewolf," she stated, not bothering to mince her words. Standing up on the tremendously crap couch they'd stumbled their way to the night before, Teresa gestured to bite mark on her thigh. "Me too."
Shit. Fuck. Of course you had to wake her up, he thought, watching as the body on the couch started stirring around, Now you can enjoy the walk of shame in full, Jāni. You dolt. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when the first words out of her mouth weren't 'Who are you?' or 'Where am I?', but a guess -- a correct guess -- of the origin of the words that had woken her up. And then, a completely casual and polite 'Good morning'. All while he just stood there, in his gray cotton briefs.
"Uh, good, good morning to you too," he answered, his voice a tad scratchy. He was desperate for a large glass of cold water, but there was no sign of any bottles or a sink in the room. His shoulders slumped in disappointment and all the young man wanted was to disappear from the dingy room, to go home, take a few painkillers and crash on his own couch. Though...Tuuli would probably find something nasty to say to him as soon as he'd step into the apartment. She always had something nasty to say.
He had already pulled one of his jean legs on, when the woman he'd slept with spoke again. Her words pierced him like a knife, making him freeze up and release his pants, making them fall down to his ankles. Meanwhile she stood up on the couch, showing him a nasty set of scars on her outer thigh. Her scars were a little faded -- this must have been a few years ago, meanwhile for Jānis it hadn't even been a full year yet.
"Wha-I'm not," he stammered at first. He was ashamed of being a werewolf. He hated the world for making this happen to him out of all people. Why couldn't it have been.. Tuuli? No, that would only make her an even bigger bitch.
"Okay, I am a werewolf. What of it?" he said after the initial shock had passed. He hadn't even noticed that she was a witch in the first place -- this was a muggle bar. And now it was the full jackpot. He leaned down and pulled his pants up, this time getting them on properly.
Post by TERESA NOTTINGHAM on Dec 30, 2019 12:09:22 GMT
This guy looked miserable, like he was about the make a run for it, and Teresa's eyebrow raised because, "Merlin, you'd think you'd never done this before." But then she paused, a considering look on her face. "Unless you haven't. I didn't take your virginity, right?" She wouldn't have pegged him as a virgin, not with those moves last night. As sloppy and drunk as they were, he definitely seemed to have known what he was doing with himself. It was a nice change from all the nervous men she took home usually, although she went home with them for business and not for pleasure. If there were no benefits in taking those sorts home, she wouldn't bother.
The guy's half-tugged on jeans pooled at his ankles, and Teresa watched him flounder at her accusation - an accusation she was positive was true. She had met enough werewolves in her time, in fact she lived with a whole group of them now, and she knew what a bite looked like. She'd be stupid if she didn't, and Teresa prided herself on her wits. But then he admitted what she knew was true, and was asking 'what of it?' "It's a shit gig." She wouldn't willing choose to become a werewolf in a million years. "How long have you been bitten for?"
"It's been, uh," he counted on his fingers, "Tā, tagad ir aprīlis, un tas bija septembrī,1 7 months. Yeah, since September. It was the best day of my life, until it wasn't." There was a great deal of biterness in his voice now and he didn't care to hide it. The world was going to know how bad it had fucked up. He reached down to grab his t-shirt, which smelled of something they had drunk the previous night. Great, not only do I look like a bum, I smell like one now, too. Brilliant. I won't hear the end of it from Tuuli.
"To what you said before, I am not a virgin. Sorry, that ship sailed when I was 16. I'm just no good at the morning after," his voice was slightly muffled as he pulled the shirt over his head and started looking around for his tattered leather jacket. Upon finding it, he reached into one of the packets and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
"Do you want one?" he asked after pulling one out and squeezing it between his lips. "You weren't half bad yesterday. A little surprised a girl can drink so much...Then again, I have a female friend who can down shot after shot like she's drinking water, so," he shrugged, his voice trailing off as he lit the smoke in his mouth.
1. "Uh, it's April now, and that was September" - in Latvian.
Post by TERESA NOTTINGHAM on Dec 30, 2019 13:18:04 GMT
"People don't realise how easy they have it until all of a sudden, life gets really fucking hard to just live." Teresa recognised the tone of bitterness that marred his voice because she felt that way for a good year after being bitten. It was hard not to when a huge bomb like that exploded right in the middle of your world, and destroyed almost everything in it's path - future aspirations, relationships with friends, the continuity of your education. Whilst Teresa still felt resentful for everything that was taken from her, it wasn't as devastating now as it was back then. "What were you doing when you got bit?"
"That's good, because you'd be the most naturally talented virgin I've ever slept with. Most of them can't even undo a bra clasp their hands are that sweaty," Teresa said nonchalantly before she snorted loud. Apparently he hadn't clued onto the fact that his shirt was currently on her, and he'd pulled his leather jacket onto her shirt. "'I Make My Mum Sad with My Choices (every day)'. My shirt suits you. You should keep it." Drawing attention to the shirt she was wearing, Teresa's face was perfectly innocent as she tugged the hem of it up a few inches until it rested near her belly button. "Unless you want this one back?"
Jumping off the couch, Teresa's feet hit the floor with a thud before she moved towards him like a snake gliding through water. "I'll take this one, thanks," she said as she pinched the cigarette right from his lips, placing it between her owns. "Surprised a girl can drink so much? I can drink you under the table any day, and I'd be happy to prove it again. You're buying though."
As he was pulling his shirt on, Jānis let out an approving grunt. Indeed, every worry he had had before being bitten felt like the whining of a little child. Things were far, far worse now, when he only had one person to trust. And when he felt like that single person -- his twin brother -- was growing tired of him... The world was in grayscale. Of course, the girl asked him how it had happened. His face contorted in a painful expression, as he looked away.
"Me and my brother were the star players of our national Quidditch team," he began, chewing on his lip in between pauses, "And we got drafted into the Chuddley Cannons. A pathetic a title as can be, but hey, it brought us out from our little country. It was the celebration party that night," he continued, tucking the back of the t-shirt into his pants, "And we were leaving, all drunk and shit, and then... Next thing I know, I'm bleeding and there is a werewolf. No Cannons, no Quidditch, no nothing." At this moment, he looked down at the shirt he was wearing.
Something isn't right here.
It took for the girl -- what was her name, again? -- to point out that it wasn't even his shirt for things to finally click. "Wow, I've never been this hungover. If only my mother knew... You can keep mine, you look good in black." Here he was, exchanging shirts with a one night stand and pondering how he would tell his mother that, what do ya know, your son is a goddamned werewolf now. Fun!
Jānis blinked a few times in rapid succession when the girl stole the cigarette he'd just lit up. As he took another one out of the pack, he smirked at her, "Can't get enough of my lips, huh?", and laughed when she offered to outdrink him again. He didn't have that kind of money. Speaking of that, who the hell was paying last night?
Post by TERESA NOTTINGHAM on Jan 1, 2020 12:24:42 GMT
Teresa was dead silent as she watched this guy's face contort into one of pain, before he shared his story with her. Like most 'I got bit' stories, it was fucking miserable to listen to. "That's real rough. I'd say I'm sorry, but my apology doesn't mean shit, and I know it," Teresa said. Apologies didn't make anything better, they didn't turn back time, they didn't restore your life back to normal. Nothing would, and it was infuriating. "I'd say it gets better, but it doesn't - maybe if the Ministry wasn't a bunch of regulation-loving arseholes we'd have a shot of surviving in this world, maybe even living a happy life except for once a month, but..." Anger was an emotion Teresa was familiar with, it had wormed her way into her life as a child directed right at her parents and it had never left. Talking about the Ministry, and the way she was being treated for something beyond her control? It made the anger inside of her roar it's ugly head, and she clenched her jaw, staring out of the window until she shoved the head back down. "Is your brother supportive? I tried getting by on my own for a couple of years, but it's easier getting by when you've got a pack."
A small laugh escaped her lips as the man admitted he'd never been so hungover that he'd put on somebody else's shirt, then her eyebrows raised as he told her that she looked good in black. "I'd say I look even better without a shirt, but suit yourself," she said, the fingers that were toying with the hem of his shirt dropping into her lap. "Lucky black suits me..."
It was always a delight catching somebody off-guard, and Teresa reveled in the man's fast blinking. But then he was smirking and yeah, okay, she could definitely see why she'd hooked-up with him last night. Those lips were sinful. "You know how to put them to good use," she said, letting her dark gaze linger on his mouth for a good few seconds before dragging her eyes back to his. "Speaking of putting your lips to good use, you should use them to tell me your name because I can't remember it."
"It's Jānis, but you can just say John," he answered as he lighted the smoke and leaned against the wall, considering all that she'd said. "It was a pleasure to sleep with you..." The ending of his sentence lingered as he awaited her to tell him her name. She was, without a single doubt, hot as hell and Jānis was pleasantly surprised by this turn of luck. He knew he wasn't bad looking, but...Score.
After the pleasantries had been dealt with, he spent an entire minute just smoking and staring somewhere in the distance. Regulation loving arseholes... I mean, she's right, but... He scratched the bottom of his chin -- smooth as a baby's bottom, to his great dismay. He could turn into a werewolf once a month, but he still couldn't grow a beard. Life just wasn't fair to him.
"I guess you're right, though the regulation is there so that shit like this wouldn't happen in the first place, isn't it? Okay, by the looks of it, it isn't really working, but..." he sighed, taking the cig out of his mouth and letting out a puff of smoke, "Now that I think about it, they're really not helping anyone either. I really do only have my brother, but he's got a baby and a harpy of a girlfriend who thinks I'm some demon straight from hell, and we are stuck in one tiny apartment on one salary..."
Post by TERESA NOTTINGHAM on Jan 3, 2020 12:06:15 GMT
"I'll remember that for next time." So I know who's name to moan out went left unsaid, but it had Teresa's lips curling all the same as she blew out a stream of smoke.
For a split second, when she was expected to fill in her name, Teresa paused. Normally, she didn't give just anyone her name. The people she went home with usually ended up calling her Beth because she was far too paranoid to give her real name, but this was different. He was definitely a werewolf, for one, and there was no risk of him turning her in for stealing. He wasn't about to tell the Ministry about her. "Teresa. Where are you from? I've never met a Jānis before."
"The regulations punish people who are just trying to live their lives. We can't help that we got bit - and now we're being forced to live below the poverty line? It's fucked," Teresa's words were bitten out, but... there was a tendril of guilt that unfurled inside of her because she was responsible for the Ministry's latest and greatest law - the ban from St. Mungos. How many wolves would suffer the consequences and not receive treatment for their post-full moon injuries? How many innocent people bitten by werewolves would bleed out because they didn't have access to dittany and silver to close the wound? "They should have arrested the people who attacked Hogwarts. The Cotswolds. Things wouldn't have escalated if they caught the guilty in the first place."
Frown now marring her features, Teresa mirrored Jānis' actions and took a long drag of her cigarette. She was getting worked up again, and she needed to calm down before she did something stupid. Like punched a wall - and this time she wouldn't have Kiernan to help heal her. Focusing on what Jānis was saying, the frown only deepened. "The harpy - does she think you're a demon because you're a werewolf? My parents... their word of choice was abomination, right before they kicked me out."
If Jānis had asked 'do you have anyone?' a few months ago, the answer would be a strict no. But now... she did. "I didn't for a long time. I have a pack now... things are still tough, but shit's not nearly as bad. I don't have to worry where I have to sleep every night," she told him honestly. She wondered... if things were that bad where he lived, getting by on one salary with someone actively hating him inside his own shared apartment, would he ever contemplate joining?
Bļāviens jūrā. The sound of foreign words floating into Teresa's ears had the young woman blinking awake, wondering if she'd somehow managed to apparate to a completely different country. One that maybe was a bit nicer than the hell hole that was England at the moment. But as a face appeared in front of her eyes, going from blurry to sharp within a few seconds, she realised that was not the case because there was the man she'd had a drinking contest with last night in a very unfortunately English pub. "That sounds Baltic," Teresa muttered in his direction, before sitting up. "Good morning to you too."
