A Magical Roleplaying Experience 

Stories taking place in mainland Europe and Russia west of the Ural Mountains. Some countries include France, Norway, Bulgaria, and Poland.
Forum rules: When starting your thread, please put a location [Tag] at the beginning of it, such as [Italy] or [Russia]. Use broad locations if possible, though more detailed descriptions are welcome for specific locations such as schools. Once your thread is complete, be sure to mark and report it as complete to be archived.
 #35878  by Evaline Delisle
The steward moving through the market-goers with her basket stopped short, not unlike a deer caught in Lumos light, as she was singled out for the first aid task.

Evaline had been instructed to purchase from a freed house elf and his son some rare cooking spices for Heloise's cooking, from a pair of centaurs seeds for a particular plant that Hadrian wanted to try growing in the gardens, and from a Romanian witch a select list of cosmetics to replace dwindling ones in Mademoise–non, Michelle's current use. Heloise had handed her a purse full of coins and sent her on her way. It was bad enough that she did not understand why her train ticket homebound was bought for not another three hours. What was she supposed to do in all that time after she bought the items—shop for herself on a working day?

Whatever it was, it can't possibly be so she could afford a detour of this sort. Evaline wasn't a Healer. What if something bad happened to the man?

"Wait—" She tried to call out to the two ladies, but blonde and brunette were already disappearing into the throng. Evaline looked with dismay back at the sick male. She couldn't leave him now, it struck against her conscience. Timidly, the witch inched closer to him, just enough that she could have placed a concerned hand on his shoulder, if she dared, which she didn't. "Um, hello," she greeted, trying not to sound nervous, thick accent immediately betraying her nationality. "Are you okay?" He did look frightfully pale. She reached into her basket, retrieving two flowers from the small bouquet of weeping tree dahlias that she could not resist buying from the centaurs for her own room.

Evaline transfigured the flowers into a glass which she filled with ice cool water from her wand tip. "Here," she offered it to the stranger.
 #35943  by Rafe Hallen
Sweat dripped from his brow and Rafe tossed his head back, hair whipping in the wind and looking like a wounded soldier on their knees. He felt disoriented as he accepted the offering of water like a wanderer in the desert. He didn't leave time for thanks as he tipped the glass back, water flowing down his neck in his haste.

Rafe could practically feel the moisture absorbing back into his skin as his body accepted the water and his wits returned. His eyes blinked past the kind stranger, looking for the quickest escape -- he had already made too much of a scene.
 #35952  by Evaline Delisle
It might have been nice to receive some indication of gratitude, but he looked so distressed that she did not feel she could hold the absence against him. Evaline could just feel anxiety thrumming off of the male—like an opera song teetering to soaring crescendo and pushing a note higher so that one was certain it would surely break. In fact, whatever that plagued him, he was already cracking from. The emesis was only one symptom; her timid gaze briefly flickered down to take note of watermarks that darkened his collar from his gulping down the water she'd offered.

The servant girl felt bad for him, really. He did not look like he could be much older than her. Everything told her that she should run, get on her way. He looked like trouble, albeit trouble staggering in lapse.

Evaline tapped the now-empty glass in the stranger's hand. It was now a square, plain linen kerchief. "You spilled a little," she pointed out meekly. Her wand lowered, as if in a natural motion, where the tip surreptitiously grazed against the back of his other hand hanging at his side. If he did not notice it, even a fleeting few seconds was all she needed to wordlessly cast a calming spell—not too much to be suspicious, but just enough to steady him.

She did always have a soft spot for the crippled, the weak, and the underdogs.
 #35976  by Rafe Hallen
Rafe groaned in frustration, glass-turned-handkerchief billowing in the wind. He pulled the cloth across his face once, loosely gathering any excess moisture, before climbing back to his feet.

The breeze calmed him, it seemed, like hot metal dunked into an ice bath. He steamed, but every drop of rage released was lost to the winds, for now. There was a sense of euphoria as each face in the crowd that, moments ago, had all been marked as individual threats, blurred into one and became nothing more than the backdrop of a painting. And before him, the stunning subject of the piece came into focus.

A series of meandering streams of worry met into one focused channel of contentedness while Rafe extended a handkerchief-wielding hand.
 #35989  by Evaline Delisle
Evaline discreetly tucked away her wand, casting a furtive look about herself, anxious that her little trick might have been seen by anyone at all. Certain skills were assets that should be flaunted, but the daughter remembered still her father's reminder—of a double-edged sword.

She took a step backward from the calmer stranger, shaking her head and a hand sheepishly. "It's okay, you can keep it," she said hastily, "and I—I should go."

Evaline had already taken more detour and did more than she should have. Inwardly, she chided herself, and contemplated whether she should report this interlude to Heloise. Would Mademoi—Michelle even care? It did not seem that her new mistress cared very much about anything.

The French girl turned to leave.
 #36025  by Andi Foerster
Before she could, Andi came into view. He'd been allowed to start leaving St. Mungos, and he'd planned to call by Florian's stall before seeing his mother to say hello and offer a little company. Hopefully, at some point, he could start working again. And maybe, after some more time, he would be able to apply for the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts!

"Whoa!" He gasped, excruciatingly audible to those around, clearly with no spacial awareness. "How'd you get a wand in here!? Y'know that's against the rules right? I've worked here years and I've never been able to sneak one in given the amount of security at the gates, and with all those other officers lurking about that's real risky...even my friend Jens would rat me out to Herr Meyer. So, how'd you do it?"

He inhaled sharply.

"Oh! Oh, gosh okay, are you er...y'know...one of those kinds? I know Dice Rogan managed to get in before but he got caught out because he's shady anyway. Do you have specific permission to have that?" He tilted his head. "Even stall owners aren't allowed to have them..."