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!
“What do you mean you cannot help me?” Tobias asked the receptionist with a confused look on his face. “You’re a hospital right? Where else should I- Argh,” he hissed in pain but kept pressing down on the wounds. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It was the morning after a full moon and the wolf really ravaged his body not to mention any substance he was on had long worn off. There was a large bite wound on his left arm and a deep set of claw slashes across the same chest. Pressing the wounds wouldn’t heal them and neither would muggle methods. “Sorry, sir. We no longer take patients of your kind,” the nervous lady behind the desk swallowed and avoided Toby’s eyes.
“What the hell? What am I supposed to do? Bleed to death on this floor?” His eyes widened in frustration, his voice started to growl as an after effect of the night before. He’d already lost so much blood, Tobias didn’t know how much longer he could hold up. As he stepped closer, the woman scoffed backwards. “Sir, I kindly ask you to leave before I call in the aurors.” Tobias froze and noticed that several people in the waiting room either had their wands pulled or were shielding their children. The look on people’s faces were mixed with disgust, fear and hate. The young werewolf’s gaze turned towards the ground and with a defeated look, he left the building a bloody trail. Just outside of the hospital he sat down on a bench, still holding on to the clothes that were soaked in blood. “Is this how it’s going to end? A pathetic death for a pathetic life...” He sighed and closed his eyes in defeat.
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While Tobias didn’t want to die yet, he had half accepted it by now. It was not like he could find some off the book healer in time to patch him up. Where even would he get money from? The thought of death terrified him mostly because he felt like he’d wasted his life. There were so many things he never could experience. However the reason he couldn’t was also the reason he might die today. He’d just be sitting his life out and would sit out his death.
When a shadow leaned over him, Tobias looked up to see what it was. There was a man dressed in stylish clothes and a priest collar. Was this the one who would come and take him from this mortal world? To whatever weird place was next. “Are you the grim reaper? If there is such a thing,” Tobias asked with a weak voice. Talking cost a lot of energy, he noticed. He’d really been shouting before, speeding up the process.
The man didn’t talk like some kind of immortal being which brought Toby back to earth for a moment. He looked at his wounds and then the man. “You know what these are?” He asked hesitantly, fearing rejection. “I think I would prefer not dying but I’m afraid I’ve got no money,” he said, guessing this man was an illegal healer.
"The Grim Reaper?" he chuckled, "No, no, on the contrary, friend. I'm your guardian angel, at least just for today." He reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a little, brown bottle with a cork stuck in the neck to close it. "See this?" he showed the guy the bottle, "This will patch you up and you'll be good in no time."
"I know very well what those are," he continued, some of his words gritted through his teeth as he tried to pull out the rather stubborn cork out of the bottle, "What you are. It was a full moon night, and you're not going into St.Mungos, it's quite obvious, really. But don't fear," he leaned in, taking the man's left arm and moving away the bloodied rags from the nasty bite wound, "I've no ill intentions. This might hurt, though."
Each tooth mark got a drop of the brown liquid, and soon enough the werewolf's arm was covered in steaming froth, as the wounds pulled close.
"Don't worry about money, friend," he continued, holding down the man's arm so he wouldn't start wiping off the mixture -- Pascal knew it hurt to be healed, but dittany wasn't so cheap that he could waste half a bottle on one set of wounds just because someone couldn't deal with a few more moments of pain. "I won't ask a sickle or penny from you. Say, what's your name? I'm Patrick."
Tobias used to be wary and distrustful of people who just came him. People never helped and expected nothing in return. Usually he’d decline the help and find someone he trusted. That group of people had become rather small now. At this point there was no time to seek for people he knew. So even if this man had a hidden agenda, Tobias rolled with it. “Aaahhhh,” he hummed, eying the priest collar on the man. Who knew those few times he went with his family to church paid off after all? “Ohhh that makes sense, I suppose,” he said as if it did, it didn’t. Whatever, Tobias gave no crap if it made sense or not. He didn’t want to die yet and if this angel boy could patch him up, he’d buy it. The bottle looked legit. What was the worst that could happen?
The man seemed unfaced by the wounds. In fact, he appeared to know exactly what was going on. Tobias watched him open the cork with his teeth and thought it was kind of sexy. What wasn’t sexy about a guy that was about to save your life? “Well haven’t spat at me yet or told me to go away so… I’m buying it,” he shrugged. When told it was going to hurt, Tobias nodded and grinded his teeth together.
While he had known a lot of pain through the years, he never really got used to it. However, with grinding his teeth together and a few groaned, he managed to get through without screaming. The muscle and skin growing back was rather gross but once finished; it left nothing but one more scar. “Oh that’s starting to look good, father angel man,” he hissed a joke through the pain and grinned at the man. “Woaahhh you really are a saint then, huh? I suppose I’ve sinned too much to ever go to church again but send god my regards. Tell him you should get a promotion or something,” he said giving him a thumb up from his uninjured arm. “Oh, I’m Toby. Pleasure to meet ya, Patrick. Hey if there is ever something I can do in return, let me know man.”
Pascal was glad he'd approached the scraggly young man. While he himself wasn't usually much for sympathy or empathy, it felt good to help. Because that was exactly what he was doing -- helping out a fellow werewolf in need. Right now, physically, and then, socially, too, because there was no other choice but the Trossachs if you didn't want to spend your life looking and smelling like the young man, who'd introduced himself as Toby through pained hisses.
He smiled in response to Toby's jokes and the hopeful thumb up, not answering at first. Rather, he gently pushed Toby so that he'd lay down on the bench. There was still the claw marks peeking out from the scraps of his shirt that needed to be taken care of. A minute and a lot of hissing from both Toby's wounds and his mouth, the gashes had pulled over and Pascal stuck the cork back into the bottle, handing it to the young man.
"You take this, and use it sparingly, only for large wounds." he said, sitting down next to Toby. "I'm sure you haven't sinned too much for church. After all, if you are penitent, absolution can be granted and your sins forgiven. But I'm sure that your sins are the last thing you're worried about, when your daily life is hell on Earth, and it isn't even your fault."
"It's unfair how the people around you, around us, treat us," he started, glancing at the building of St.Mungos, "Don't you think? The Ministry sees werewolves as monsters, not as people with an affliction. Rather than extending a helping hand, they push us away. Why do you think that is, Toby?"
Post by TOBIAS TURNER on May 15, 2020 20:56:06 GMT
Tobias laid down, hissing in pain as the potion healed him. At times he noticed people staring at them and taking great distance when they had to pass them. Those judging looks… The same as every day. It was tiring. Day in day out. Year after year. No change seemed to happen. If anything the situation was worse than ever. Perhaps that realization was more painful than the healing wounds. Still he didn't look at the healing process. The sight always made him nauseous and he wanted to spare himself from throwing up stomach acid.
"Thanks, Father Patrick. Glad to know some people still care," he gave the man a grateful smile as he received the potion. Not wanting to ruin the healing process, Tobias stayed down for a little and looked up to the man sitting next to him. Tobias listened to the priest's words. Thing is, I don't regret doing those things. There is only one thing I deeply regret but… I," he sighed and shook his head.
"Sometimes I feel like I really died that night and this world is hell. Then again what can a twelve year old do to end up in hell?" He shrugged. The words spoken by Patrick hit deep. Usually he avoided these kind of dark topics because they were depressing and talking won't change much anyways. But he couldn't push away this man after helping him so much.
"Us?" Did he catch that right. Was this man like him? Patrik already had his attention but now his curiosity as well. If this man was truly a werewolf… How did a werewolf manage to look that healthy and wealthy ?
Why did the ministry push them away? Tobias looked up the sky and then covered his eyes. "Because we're murdering filthy beasts with no control," he painfully mumbled the words people always told him. PASCAL SNYDER,
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"A child is innocent," he answered to Toby's words, "You've done no wrong to deserve a fate like this. None of us have. A fate where we are pushed aside as if we are the sinners, as if we are the ones carrying the plague." So the young man laying on the bench next to him had suffered throughout his adolescent years. Transformations were hard enough on an otherwise healthy adult body, and Pascal couldn't imagine how bad it was for a child. No wonder Toby was so thin and scraggly -- to Pascal it was a wonder he was still alive after all these years.
He didn't miss the other werewolve's timid inquiry about Pascal's wording, but he chose not to adress it. Why? Oh, simply because it gave his character a little bit of mysteriousness.
"Indeed," he agreed with Toby's assessment of the Ministry's reasoning, "In truth, they are the murderers. They are the sinners. God tells us to love our neighbour as we love ourselves, and what do we get instead? We get punished. Punished for an illness that could be kept under control, if not for the greed and selfish fears of others."
"This is why you can't trust anyone who isn't opposed to the Ministry. Even those who claim to be neutral cannot be trusted, because it is so much easier to be selfish and join the side of hate than it is to be righteous, especially when the battle seems impossible." He got up from his seat, turning to Toby, continuing his speech, starting to gesture with his hands, and, even though he kept his voice quiet, it was full of emotion and strength.
"I know it seems like you've nothing to live for, that the entire world is against you, Toby. But you must know this -- you've got friends out there. People doing the work of God, even if they don't believe in Him. The one's bringing the wrath of God down upon these sinners, because, as forgiving God is, sometimes people need to be taught a lesson the hard way. If you want a better life, you should join them."
After a moment of silence, Pascal pulled out his old leather wallet and pulled out 20 pounds, handing them to Toby. It was an entire fortune for Pascal, but Toby needed it a lot more. Pascal could wrap some dumb muggle around his finger without any problem, he'd get it back, and even more.
"Here, take this. Buy yourself a meal. And you should go look for a muggle Red Cross, they have free clothing you can have. Burn your rags, they aren't salvageable."
