A Magical Roleplaying Experience 

"These are dark times, there is no denying..."
Scrimgeour said it first, but we're feeling it in the real world and we know you are too!

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Stories taking place in England, Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland, and the Republic of Ireland.
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:heart: # 1
 #35602  by Sen Watanabe
Leaning back against the worn mid-century wooden chair he would duly used when his back was sore from reading in bed, Sen wordlessly rolled two thin cigarettes. He could have done it with magic after all his non-verbal skills had always been astounding even during his education. There was something almost therapeutic about doing some things the muggle way. Reliance on one's own dexterity and cynosure to detail. A weighted attention to time, and how muggles relied on this concept of time which wizards comically ignored to harpoon their every action and well.

Sen crossed his long legs, the crease of his navy trousers crinkling with his movement as he extended the paper offering to the woman. He waited for her to take it before holding up his index finger which now emitted a weak blue flame.

He guessed that she would do the talking as Nola always did. And he would listen, as he was always permitted to. Sen lifted the mug to his parched lips. Hair of the dog, he thought to himself for the fourth time this week.
 #35649  by Nola Fitzralph
For a few passing minutes, the only sound that hung in the sluggish air was the rustle of tobacco and cigarette paper between the male's long, ink-stained fingers. There was a strange tranquility about it—close enough to almost peace.

It was a charming illusion.

Nola plucked the fresh-rolled cigarette from Sen's proffered fingers and placed the slim stick between her lips. She leaned forward to poise its end with a loose, curled strand of tobacco over the flame he produced. When she exhaled a plume of smoke, she tried not to be ashamed of how smoothly it had went down and back up again. The young woman eyed him from underneath her long, golden lashes, cigarette in one hand and rum and coke in the other. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, only to shut it again.

She had many words. She always did. They were just... fermenting.
 #35822  by Sen Watanabe
He could sit in this silence forever, Sen mulled to himself as he gazed frostily at the woman perched on his mattress. He wondered when was the last time a girl had come over to his apartment. Even if he tried his damned best to keep Nola at arm's length, she still counted as a female companion. And it had been a long while since he had bothered to clean up the collecting debris.

Smoke hung in the air just as his words did, heavy with shame. It was not until his first rum and coke had pooled nicely in his stomach did Sen finally attempt to spear at the numbness lofting throughout the room.

"So you came over for a smoke and a piss then," the wizard drawled brashly, his twiggy fingers curled around his mug like a taloned cat. "or did you have something to say to me?"
 #35931  by Nola Fitzralph
Sen's only friend in childhood might have wondered more than once what kind of life he had chosen in leaving her behind. She turned her gaze with curiosity on each part of the room that he called home: wisp-thin and yellowing curtains decorated with moth holes; peeling paint from the study table; one door gaping ajar on the wardrobe revealing more gaps than black and grey garments. Tendrils of smoke from the roll-your-own cigarette unfurled gently from her lips and for one illusorily tranquil moment, replaced unsaid words unasked questions that simmered in the sluggish, musty air of the male's apartment.

When he eventually broke their stalemate, Nola gingerly balanced her mug—chipped edge near the handle—on one knee. Rosy mouth habitually shifted into a pout.

"You were the one who didn't answer my question."

The accusation was pointed, but it lacked the expected bite and instead sounded almost honeyed and childlike in its unfiltered forlornness. She watched him, just long enough to seem like she might be expecting one now, but then she spoke again, unable to resist herself, "You don't have anything to say to me?"
 #36087  by Sen Watanabe
You don't have to say anything to me?

Trillions of atomic thoughts flared like lightbulbs in his heavy mind. Have you been well? Are you living comfortably? Are you seeing any new dickheads? Have you settled down with any new dickheads? Why are you here? Why have you come to find me? Why haven't you given up on me?

None of these he could say unless the rest of the rum bottle tipped itself into his chipped coffee mug.

"Um," Sen blistered a thorny cough which he soothed with a deep drink of his rum. "You look really good."
 #36096  by Nola Fitzralph
A bright, brilliant smile broke out across the young woman's face. Really good, he said. Not just good, but really good. She was no stranger to being told that she was pretty, but the gift of Sen's compliment was a precious, rare gemstone she ferreted away into the iron-tight clutches of her memory. Nola would revisit it again, when they would part ways, and she needed the affirmative reminder that he cared.

Because he did, she knew it.

It was just sometimes tiring to keep reminding herself that he did.

"You think?" she decided not to mention the eleven-month-old knotted scar running along her once-smooth back like a twisted, deformed tree root. "You used to tell me blue goes with my eyes, do you remember?" Knowing Sen, he did not, but Nola had came home from her next shopping trip after with bags of new clothes in varying shades of blue. Sen's guest lifted the mug to her lips, taking a sip from it whilst eyeing over the rim at the scruff blooming a garden of overgrown weeds along his jawline.

"You look like shit," she volunteered truthfully. "When was the last time you shaved? Or got a haircut?"
 #36099  by Sen Watanabe
Nola's reply earned her a rusty chortle- a sound that felt offbeat and out of place for Sen who rummaged the nooks of his memory in an attempt to remember the last time he had laughed out loud.

"I never liked to pay for grooming services, its a waste. Who cares about how I look anyway?" Sen's mediocre excuse was said in all partiality to the fact that he didn't care all too much about how he looked. It wasn't like he ever really left the house except to go to work or the grocery store. And with magical delivery nowadays, the latter was hardly even needed!

"Maybe I'll try wearing blue and then I can look as daisy-fresh as you always do."
 #36100  by Nola Fitzralph
She cared. If she had been around, she would never have allowed him to overgrow his facial hair like that. She hated scratchy beards. Except she hadn't been around, because he hadn't wanted her around.

She was here now, though, and she was not going anywhere.

"Not as pretty, though. That can't be copied." Nola's chin tilted with a coquettish haughtiness. "But, I'll do it for free," she offered. "I used to help my dad shave all the time." It was Michael and Nola's thing, when she was home from Hogwarts for summer. She glanced about his apartment, trying to determine where the bathroom might be. Nola looked back at Sen, suddenly enthusiastic.

"Get your stuff, Sunny. We're getting you groomed."
 #36101  by Sen Watanabe
The very thought of Nola with a razor to his throat after walking out on her life with very little explanation four years ago sounded more frightening to Sen than a three-headed magic immune dragon.

"You know, I think I'd rather sit here and have you fill me in on all your catastrophic life moments since we last saw each other," Sen responded while fashioning himself another cigarette.
 #36103  by Nola Fitzralph
The prospect of revisiting her racing career sounded approximately as thrilling as visiting an ancient, cursed cave in the middle of Antartica with nothing but her wand.

Nola lifted the mug again, taking a significantly larger drink from it this time.

"Maybe it wasn't all catastrophe," she challenged, wanting some sign, any sign of his emotion toward her. "Maybe it had been a jolly good time without you all these four years."
 #36105  by Sen Watanabe
"That's good to hear," Sen piqued nonchalantly while wandlessly refilling both their mugs.

"Except, if it was a jolly good time I'd think that maybe you'd be too famous to pay your old mate here a visit."
 #36107  by Sen Watanabe
Well that stung, as much as it was true.

"Don't be dramatic, I didn't abandon you!"

A death-like hand rubbed its owner's thundering temple. "Things were getting complicated back then, I thought it was for the best for both of us."
 #36108  by Nola Fitzralph
The look of injury that she gave him in response made clear that he had abandoned her, as far as her comprehension was concerned.

Nola said nothing, lowering her eyes to her mug, which she lifted to her lips, and drank more at once than she probably should have at two in the afternoon.
 #36111  by Sen Watanabe
Her silence was damned and unnerving. Nola was never silent.

"Don't look at me like that, I didn't!."

It isn't you, it's me, how could he tell her that? Because in the end it was her, in all her reckless entirety. She shone too brightly for him, and he came dangerously close to being burned.

"I was going through a tough time."