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Live the life of a wizard! Based on J.K. Rowling's books, this guild focuses on the Ministry of Magic and everyday life. Open and accepting! 

Tags: roleplay, J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter, Ministry of Magic, Wizarding World 

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Essy ze Ninja
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PostPosted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 6:31 pm
So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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                                              The silence had daunted her. It drained her. The pout of her bottom lip shook, but she restrained herself. In moments, she’d hidden her face in her hands and let the blonde hair curtain her features. She didn’t want him to see her like this. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. And then it struck her; she wasn’t crying. She should have been balling, shouldn’t she? She should be sobbing, heaving. But she’d already cried so much, drained every tear dry. She just couldn’t do it anymore. His embrace was warm, and she didn’t fight it, as much as a part of her had wanted to. It was the pride, that green monster manipulated her every move. But she couldn’t do it anymore.

                                              She knew he was struggling, just to be here. He had to be. She couldn’t imagine the pain that might be radiating; he’d broken so much of himself in that fight. It was a miracle she’d been capable to heal him herself. Her fingers twitched, and her hands moved from her face to coil around his back, digging softly into him, as if he might just disappear too. Soft eyes glistened up at him as held her at arms length, and she nodded. He’s sorry, that almost broke her. Everyone was sorry, but it didn’t help anything! It never would! That word-- she hated it! She hated hearing it! All it did was remind her of just how useless she really was... But still, he was trying. Could she dare blame him for that?

                                              ”Ron....” She whimpered. She didn’t know what to say. ”Just... just get better, okay.” Her lips forced a smile, it hurt, but she knew she had to. She wasn’t going to make this about her. ”Now stop giving me that look, I’m okay! I promise.” But it was a lie wasn’t it? It always was. She pushed him away, swatted at his arms, she didn’t want the coddling attention. That wasn’t her. ”So stop straining yourself.” She chastised him. What else could she do? It helped her feel normal again.

                                              ”Seriously though, I’m okay, it’s been over a year.... You just need to focus on you. I heard Phinelia was back for a while, how is she? I hadn’t seen her since she was pulled out of school.” She didn’t really know Phi, so she wasn’t even sure why she was asking. Maybe it didn’t matter, but the distraction was nice.


✹✸✷ Her Loft
✹✸✷ Pearls and Gold
Nineteen Years Old 5’7” 139lbs
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Ronyo Storm
 
PostPosted: Thu Jan 23, 2014 9:01 pm
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Ronyo Storm - Former Slytherin
Detective
Belle's Loft


She was quick to recover from the moment of leaving herself open, but even if Ronyo had not been a detective he could tell she was far from fine. She was lost. For so long she had a direction she wanted to go in life and was on her way with it. Her dream of opening the duel shop had happened, and she was going to be married and have a child. All she had left now was her shop, something she could bury herself in to distract her from having to think about everything. She had been knocked off her horse and instead of getting back up she was making it seemed like she liked it on the ground.

"I have not seen Phi in a while, not sense she helped me with a case a few months back. I worry about her but I also know she can take care of herself," Ronyo stood up not really caring about pain anymore, "Like you Belle. Your probably the strongest woman I know which makes it easy to forget sometimes that your just as human as the rest of us. When you're ready to talk let me know and I'll be ready to listen," Ronyo moved back towards the bed and sat down feeling the relief of letting his legs rest again, "I'll get better, but I want you to as well. If that means I find away to kill a dementor then you better believe I'll do it. For now though..." Ronyo laid back down and felt his body relax from the pain and tension, "I'm going to take a nap and hopefully have a nice dream."

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Ronyo Storm

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PostPosted: Sat Jan 25, 2014 7:26 pm
So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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                                              [The Next Day]

                                              ”Pst.... Psst..... heeyy, Belle whispered as quietly as she could, crouched down beside the bed with her green eyes barely poking over the edge to peer down at him. Her wand was delicate in her fingers, and she gently poked the rounded end against the soft plush of his nose. ”Ron?” She whispered so bare, so fleeting, she almost wondered if she even said it at all. When he didn’t seem to respond, a small, mischevious smile wormed on her lips. Gooood, good. She giggled and pranced away from the bedside, the muffled sound of her heels gently grazed the thick wool rug and rounded the corner to the kitchen. Green eyes poked around the edge of the wall, making sure he was still fast asleep... Just in case.

                                              She hated it when people watched her cook; she was terrible at it, and much preferred to be alone in that aspect. She didn’t like advice, at least, not with cooking. It always reminded her of some childhood trauama, or something, she didn’t really remember, she just remembered the bitter feelings from the experience. She glanced over her shoulder, almost swore he was watching her, but the hallway was bare and she knew he had to be tucked under the covers. He shouldn’t be awake for a while... Right?

                                              So she cooked, or she tried, anyway. The eggs were rubber, the bacon was burnt, the muffins didn’t rise (and she still can’t figure out why) and she seasoned the ham with cayenne pepper instead of salt. (Why she thought it was a good idea to use so much salt while she swatted her feline friend away instead of paying attention, she couldn’t be sure.) But it happened. ”Okay, ******** that, french toast should be easy, right?”

                                              The preparation was quick, and the bread was dropped in the yolk mix and then doused with brown sugar cinnamon (or was she supposed to do that first or maybe even last?) Belle blinked. ”I have no idea if I’m doing this right.” She shrugged and plopped the slice of bread in the frying pan anyway and swiped up a rag to scour her fingers clean while she checked up on Ronyo, but before she reached the other side of the loft where the bedroom was kept, she got distracted.

                                              ”Oh my God I love this song.” The alarm to her kitchen radio randomly tuned into a local muggle station playing rock music. She tossed the rag towards the counter, hips swaying and head bobbing. Her voice hummed as she closed her eyes and danced.

                                              But behind her, the rag dropped from the edge of the counter to the stove top nestled beside the frying pan and the sputter of flames fueled vehement. The gas stove had caught the rag on fire, and it cackled as it burned the cotton and lurched to the drapery slowly eating it and billowing with smoke. ”Mhmm, yeaaahh, oooOooOooOoOoO,” she sang and danced, completely oblivious to the fire behind her.



✹✸✷ Her Loft
✹✸✷ Little Red Lamb
Nineteen Years Old 5’7” 139lbs
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Ronyo Storm
 
PostPosted: Sun Jan 26, 2014 6:14 pm
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Ronyo Storm - Former Slytherin
Detective
Belle's Loft


The dreams that came to the white haired wizard while he rested and healed were chaotic to say at best. Images of Tay popping up and killing people at the Detective Agency and then in Hogsmeade, flashes of his time spent in China those many years ago under the tutelage of Master Sun, and pictures of a blonde woman laughing with a small child and then seeing it burn away. It was strange because Ronyo could swear he could smell the smoke from the flames as they burned away the images. Suddenly the detectives nose was twitching and his mind snapping him back to reality and consciousness from the sudden need to be alerted.

Ronyo opened his eyes and sat up, feeling his abs tighten but not nearly as much as the previous day, and could smell the smoke still. Seeing small wisps of grey smoke coming from other end of the small place Ronyo moved without asking his body if it was up to it. Wanting to move fast the white haired wizard rolled out of the bed onto the carpet. His beat up shirt had been taken after his bandages were changed last and to have it be attempted to be cleaned as he was told. Something about laying in the same shirt for too many days. The carpet actually felt nice against his bare chest but he could not take time to enjoy the small moment as he needed to figure out what was causing the smoke.

Moving quickly he halted when he saw Belle dancing to a muggle song on her radio with her backed turned to her kitchen. The oven was on and it looked like a rag had fallen on the burner and caught fire and it had started to spread. Ronyo would have found the scene amusing if the fire didn't look to be building in pitch. Ronyo wanted his wands but he didn't know where to look but he could do this without them for the time being. Both hands raised towards the area on fire and knowing repairing small items was much easier than repairing a house Ronyo focused on putting the fire out and not letting it spread.

"Flamma Frigus!" His left hand cast the fire freezing charm over the area he could see under the orange blaze to keep it from getting worst, "Aguamenti!" His right hand cast forth a stream of water which he aimed at the fire to douse the hungry flames before they could become a real threat.

As the grey smoke was replaced with white Ronyo dropped to a knee feeling the use of wandless magic take a heavier tool while he had little energy to spare on thing other than healing. Looking towards the blonde woman Ronyo still managed to smile knowing that now he could indeed find the previous sight funny.

"You dancing with flames behind you is truly a sight I will admit, but I don't think a show is necessary just for me."

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Ronyo Storm

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PostPosted: Tue Jan 28, 2014 5:59 pm
So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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                                              ”Mmmhmm, mm, mmmm, mmmm mmm,” she hummed along, engrossed into the powerful wave of music, her worries swept away in the rise of the crescendo as the music blasted loudly behind her. The muffled cry of the fires cackled venemously, seeping poison into the atmosphere with choked gray smoke and smoldering ash and scorches. Suddenly, a second voice cut through her ears and she froze in place with her foot still up in the air and her arms balanced awkwardly beside her. Green wide eyes flew open with a shock and she ducked and screamed. ”AAAAHH! PROTEGO!” She shrieked.

                                              Wandless, her palm flew up in the air as a ghostly shield suffocated her, its shimery reflection dimly lit up around her. She’d seen a figure, a person, a ghost of a shadow and the hurl of a spell and it took her several long moments to understand the smile that was on his face. She blinked. ”Wha-” Belle stuttered. Green eyes darted over her shoulder and she blinked again, the smoke still billowed out under the roof and stretched an eerie haze across her kitchen. The smoldering remains of something was drenched, along with the french toast, batter, and literally every other disaster she’d tried to cook so far. ”.....You owe me a new kitchen, I’m blaming you for this.” She stifled a laugh, a small smile struggling to shine as she turned back to the mess she’d made.

                                              ”Well I wasn’t doing this for you, you lucky twit, you scared the bloody s**t out of me; I could have killed you. She warned him, laughter still hidden in the flux of her undertone. ”Wait, who the hell said you could get up anyway, you should still be in bed-- I would have had this completely under control....” But that was a lie, and she knew it. Still, she couldn’t admit that she very nearly almost destroyed her own flat, could she? Her lips opened to speak once more, but the muffled sound was quickly cut and she darted her vision away from him. He needed a shirt, too, she'd almost instigated. But, she realized she much rather ride these moments out as long as she could. Just because she was still grieving didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it, right? No, she bit her lip. No, she shouldn't, she doubted if she had anything of Devin's even left, but it was possible...



✹✸✷ Her Loft
✹✸✷ Little Red Lamb
Nineteen Years Old 5’7” 139lbs
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Ronyo Storm
 
PostPosted: Tue Jan 28, 2014 8:29 pm
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Ronyo Storm - Former Slytherin
Detective
Belle's Loft


Ronyo couldn't help but smile as Belle reacted to the sudden spell casting with a duck and a shield. She really was a duelist at heart and it was nice to see someone else understand the heart attack when someone snuck up on you for no reason. Although Ronyo really wasn't sneaking and he had a good reason for his sudden spell display. The stifled laugh was enough to make Ronyo chuckle a bit again, which just tightened his abs and he felt the bit of pain slap him for the laugh.

"Repairo," Ronyo held out the hand that was not supporting his side and cast the repair charm to have the kitchen begin making the needed fixes that were possible from the fire...there was nothing he could do for the food though, "Anything else I can get for you my'lady?"

Slowly Ronyo moved towards the kitchen to see if his spell had done a good job. The spell was designed to fix things not arrange them so the dishes and pots were still where they had been but they looked better than during the fire. The food was however a bit over cooked what with the extra flames adding to the cooking process of the toast. Ronyo chuckled again and then sighed as he needed to remember not to laugh as much. Hearing Belle warn the white haired wizard not to do that or else she might have killed him put an even bigger smile on Ronyo's face.

"You know I'm one of the few people who would make you work for that win. Not now probably, so it would be your best chance to beat me and mark that win down," Ronyo picked up the small rag that was laying over the now off stove and held it up with a raised eyebrow, "However now that I say that...you probably would beat me in an official duel. I haven't had one of those in years. You might win before the match starts because I would probably accidentally break some rule I forgot about. Is apparating legal in official duels?" Moving towards Belle the detective smiled as he tossed to rag at the blonde hoping to have it land on her head, "Your lucky to have a detective around to solve the case of the mysterious kitchen fire. I think the rag did it out of jealousy of the stove, and was probably having an affair with the drapes, and was probably going to set you up to take the fall for the whole thing. You should lock him up and throw away the key I think," Ronyo smiled at his deduction of the poor rag and its evil deeds.

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Essy ze Ninja
 

Ronyo Storm

Werewolf

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PostPosted: Wed Jan 29, 2014 9:37 pm
So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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                                              Gray smoke disipitated but the miasma remained. The stench of charred fixtures still emblazoned her flaring nostrils, even as she inched herself forward. She absorbed the scene, tipped to the edge of heels to admire in full, as if it were the very first time all over again, and everything was like new. The allure of magic always sparkled in her; especially the temptation of power, of dueling, of the very carnal and raw magic of warring. She lived for the thrill, and her wand did too. For now, however, the dark wooden shaft was plucked from her lambskin jacket, it’s mundane tasks were a breeze to accomplish, because a breeze it was. She flicked her wrist, lips pursed in concentration as the window’s latch twisted around and the structure swung open, another delicate wave and the silence of the hot air charm had blown the remnants in a flurry. The smell was bare, its elements still tainted the room, but there wasn’t much else she could do other than hunt down her perfume.... Or brave the oven and try to bake a few sugar biscuits.

                                              His visage fluttered in her eyesight, bashful eyelashes trying to hide the sly search through her peripherals. His laughter echoed, muscles flexed and tightened beneath the constrain of bandages. The wounds lingered in carvings across his flesh, but the dittany seemed to be healing him well. Her gaze lingered and she blushed before she frowned. How long has it been now, Belle almost dared to wonder. How many lonely nights had been crossed in her calendar? An entire year already, the thought struck her harshly. An entire year.

                                              His natural charm shuddered her from her thoughts; the cool chill down her spine surprised her. ”You know I don’ like it when you say things like that, don’t you?” She leveled her lips. She honestly couldn’t remember though, but with five years on the field together, she was sure she had to have harped at him once. ”But thank you,” she nodded, a polite smile mustered to the surface.

                                              Green eyes rose to meet his, that contagious smile had swayed her lips into an earnest gem. Her laughter was teasing as she spoke to him, ”Don’t think I won’t steal this chance to beat you. And no, it's not, at least not traditionally. Every duel and every championship has different rules, after all..” Attentive to his motions, she blinked and huffed as she tried to hold her hand out for the rag and found it had flopped on her head instead, muddling her hair with ash as it slid down her face and then plopped unceremoniously into her hands. With a blink, Belle laughed hard and banished the rag from the room with a complex twist of her wand. ”You bloody brilliant fool. I would have never known.” She gushed, pretending to swoon. ”What will I ever do to repay you?”



✹✸✷ Her Loft
✹✸✷ Little Red Lamb
Nineteen Years Old 5’7” 139lbs
╚══════════════════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════╝




Ronyo Storm
 
PostPosted: Sat Feb 01, 2014 2:36 pm
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Ronyo Storm - Former Slytherin
Detective
Belle's Loft


Laughter and a smile, Ronyo could not have hoped for better. After the previous days gloomy mood from the exchanging of tales there was a much needed shift in the air. He also found it funny how she still filled a bit of her cheeks with blood when he spoke to her with any of his old chivalrous words. He made the mental update note to refrain from using those terms...too much. The detective felt her wish to not be referred in such a manner either stemmed from her wishing to distance herself from the style in which her parents pressed, or just the fact she did not see herself in the mantel of a lady. He hoped it was more the former as the latter was truly far from true.

Ronyo chuckled as she made note of not feeling bad for taking advantage of his weakened state to claim a win against him. He more formed a chuckle to a nice laugh as she played off his detective humor against the rag. Ronyo raised an eye brow and swatted the air with a hand in a manner indicating the mystery was trivial as he took the mock praise. He brought a finger to his chin though when she asked him how she could repay him. Ronyo thought about playing towards the idea of the hustler detective but he didn't want it to get awkward if he said the wrong thing.

"How can you repay me? Hmmm...there are so many options really," With a snap of his finger Ronyo smiled, "How about you point me toward the shower and we will call it even. I'm sure I am a ripe mess by now, and the water will probably help sooth some of these aches. If you tell me where you hid my shirt and can give my cloths a little cleaning magic and make myself a bit more presentable. I'm sure your getting tired of seeing me half dressed and what not. I bet I could put a water repelling charm on these bandages so you don't have to change them just because I got them wet."

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Essy ze Ninja
 

Ronyo Storm

Werewolf

8,900 Points
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PostPosted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 11:19 am
So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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                                              Manicured nails curled into the back of wispy blonde hairs, she flipped her hair behind her shoulder as the locks tucked behind her ear, almost nervous. But why? Her laughter had begun to feel hollow in her throat, and rolled into a soft chuckle before evaporating into nothing. His antics delighted her eyes with a brilliant gleam, but it was so bittersweet. Every emotion stung like a raw wound freshly salted, and she knew it, too. Hypersensitive, her mind absorbed every ghost and ghoul of sentiment with rapid fire succesion bursting in every synapse and carried along on each neuron. It tingled in her fingers and scratched the back of her throat, her voice even felt heavy. But how? Why? She must have lingered in place with that same droll expression for so long, but she couldn’t help it. How could it feel so miserable to laugh? It was incredulous, but after having lost nearly everyone, it just felt so...wrong.

                                              Belle blinked, her transfixed gaze shining into clarity. Ronyo’s theatrics distracted her, his hand tousled breezily and his tone was humorous. What did he say, her thoughts bewildered her. How long had he been talking? Was it important? Would he notice he’d lost her? Did she care? She blinked, a stone sat like a lump in her throat and she hammered it down with a gulp. ”Ooh. Hmm...okay.” Airy and fleeting, her voice sung like the soft wind through the trees.

                                              The fog in her mind clouded her vision, stagnant memories swallowed her whole. A flighty hand had waved him away never quite directing him properly, but the bathroom door hung ajar in the hallway and the vivacious colors popped out to the eye. Annabelle, on the other hand, hummed softly as she swiftly turned on her heel and sauntered down the hall out of view. She didn’t remember what she needed, but she knew she needed something, maybe if she looked, she’d remember. An empty, thoughtless mind had rewarded her with a moment of bliss as she turned in circles around her bedroom where Ron had been staying. She stared empty, never really looking. But she knew she needed something.

                                              She knew she needed Devin...

                                              Belle’s gaze had wandered through half lidded eyes, fluttered across the small room until the large mens shirt had struck her. Devin, you always leave your clothes out don’t you? And in that moment, she had forgotten it all and with a smile. Her finger slipped around Ron’s shirt and she idly swung her legs to take it to be cleaned in the utility room as she’d done for her fiance almost a thousand times before.



✹✸✷ Her Loft
✹✸✷ Little Red Lamb
Nineteen Years Old 5’7” 139lbs
╚══════════════════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄════╝




Ronyo Storm
 
PostPosted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 2:10 pm
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Ronyo Storm - Former Slytherin
Detective
Belle's Loft


That was not quite the reaction Ronyo had thought would come of his request. Something in the woman's eyes changed in that brief moment of laughter and she almost looked dazed. It had been a year from what Belle had told sense she lost her loved ones but it still was obvious it was taking its toll on her. She distracted herself with work and it was likely Ronyo's sudden need to be cared for after the battle had tripped something in her memories and caused her to lower her wall that was holding back all the emotions and memories. Ronyo was used to seeing the blonde always strong and not worried about how other saw her. Seeing her dip into these brief moments of sadness and depression was almost surreal, but then Ronyo had never been close enough to anyone like Belle had to Devin so it was one aspect of life he could not deeply understand. To have never felt that deep love for another and then try and simply understand it from just base knowledge was almost an impossibility.

Before the detective could react and ask a question Belle had moved off on her own. Like the kitchen scene had not even happened as if suddenly she was in her own world. Ronyo wanted to chase after her but something made him stop and believe the woman needed some time to herself for a bit. With a sigh Ronyo made his way to the bathroom and as he had said cast a water repelling charm over his bandages before getting into the shower. It was nice to feel the cleansing streams of hot water washing away the sweet and grim from the battle and his days healing. It was also soothing to his sore muscles and joints, a welcome relief to the constant strain to walk and appear fine. Ronyo used the time to allow himself to calm his mind and perform his breathing exercises that seemed to have been sorely unused for too long. He took long deep breaths and focused on his inner magical source. Long deep exhale and he drew from it to come forth and slowly wash over his insides while the hot water soothed his exterior.

Out of the shower Ronyo had not wanted to be any more of a pain than he felt he was being so he used simply charm to dry himself. As mentioned before he gave the cloths he had worn in to the bathroom and few blasts of magic to clean them up, make them smell better, and make them look a bit more presentable. Seeing his reflection in the mirror the detective noticed his more than fuzzy face from the days of not shaving. The hair removing jinx used correctly did the job quickly and with less fuss, a trick he had used a few times in the past when he didn't feel like taking the time to shave. The one spell trick he didn't know was anything to help with his hair. The long white locks took a bit to brush out always but it was something he didn't really mind. Trying to use a nearby brush Ronyo found that his sides did not like the idea of his arm going behind him or higher than his chest. A sigh and a slight chuckle escaped him as he realized he couldn't even brush his hair right now.

Walking out of the bathroom Ronyo had hoped to find his shirt and give it a cleaning spell as well but it was nowhere to be found. Looking around Ronyo noticed how quiet and peaceful Belle's small place was, the colors were easy and seemed to help one feel relaxed. The more he looked the more he realized he didn't know where Belle had gone off to either. He was a bit embarrassed as he was going to see if she could help him with his hair. He didn't want to leave it tangled if he could help it but he did understand how odd it might be to ask a girl to brush a guys hair. Either way it didn't hurt to ask really, but he had to find her first.

"Belle? Where did you run off too? Did you see my shirt anywhere? I was going to just give it a quick zap so you didn't have to mess with it. Belle?"

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Essy ze Ninja
 

Ronyo Storm

Werewolf

8,900 Points
  • Guildmember 100
  • Survivor 150
  • Autobiographer 200

Essy ze Ninja
Vice Captain

Partying Phantom

10,275 Points
  • Dramatic Shipping 25
  • Treasure Hunter 100
  • Tipsy 100
PostPosted: Wed Feb 26, 2014 12:25 pm
So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
╔════▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄══════════════════╗

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                                              ”Belle?” The voice echoed. ”Where…” it rattled. ”…off too?” It faded out. ”—was just—" echo, more echo. "quick zap—with i—" It blurred out. "Belle?”And it blurred in.

                                              ”Hmmmmm?” She tightened her lips to a tight line; green eyes glossed through her peripherals and the shrouded form in the distance. It was unmistakable, it was Ronyo. But when did he get here? Belle almost jumped in place and his shirt had tumbled free from her fingers. She heaved a heavy breath, her hand on her chest, and tried to quell her beating heart. The memories spilled all at once and her vision faded oblique.

                                              Ronyo reached her as she steadied herself forward, and smiled. She just wasn’t used to having anyone here, with her. It’s what she told herself anyway, the repetition soothed her mind with crashing waves. ”That was fast,” she remarked with an upturned tone. Eyes marveled at the toned lines glistened in his muscles carved; the flesh washed clean of sin. But his hair, her eyes caught with furtive glances shooting between the flicks under her lashes like arrows notched. It was in disarray, tousled and gleaned with darker hues. She’d hardly heard him, though, but his gaze was expectant, waiting…

                                              Waiting for what? She had no ******** clue.

                                              Then, she remembered the rotten cotton fabric, twisted and stained with the warrior’s mark of battle. It’d long since fallen, and with a quick sweeping motion she bent forward to swipe it up in her clawed fingers and offered it up to him. ”You’ll probably be needing that; and anyway, what did you say, I didn’t really hear you…” Oh, but that fell from her lips like a childish lie, and she knew it. She just wasn’t paying attention.

                                              ”Your hair looks like a mess, mate, just so you know.” She teased. Oh Merlin, was she so petty that that was actually going to make her feel a little better? Oh hells, maybe she is? ”And sorry I didn’t really get a chance to clean your shirt…” I lost track of time.


[OOC: So sorry it took me so long! I’ve been mostly on mobile for the past month, did you might want to timeskip, or something? I know you wanted to start doing your China escapade soon, but not sure when.. And these scenes are technically like, two guild years behind, I think. o3ob ]
✹✸✷ Her Loft
✹✸✷ Little Red Lamb
Nineteen Years Old 5’7” 139lbs
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Ronyo Storm
 
PostPosted: Tue Mar 04, 2014 7:47 am
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Ronyo Storm - Former Slytherin
Detective
Belle's Loft


As he approached Belle he could see an almost shift in her general demeanor, almost like she suddenly snapped herself back into the here and now. Ronyo didn’t want to say anything on fear of digging an already sore wound for the young woman. As she handed him the shirt he smiled and nodded, for whatever reason she had decided to take it something had stopped her from completing the task she had set out, which apparently was to wash his shirt. Ronyo gave the white fabric the same treatment of magic he had given his pants and put it on. He left the shirt unbuttoned for now because honestly his attention was focused on trying to understand the woman in front of him better.

Yeah, you would be surprised how hard it is to brush your hair when your arms don’t like you raising them above your head,” Ronyo smiled and chuckled a bit as he could see more than a few emotions swirling around in those emerald eyes, “I feel a bit embarrassed for asking but is there any chance you could help me with it?"

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((OOC: I think we can just keep going as normal for now, and maybe call this flashback filler. I’m enjoying the scene and I think there is a larger chance for character development for both characters.))


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Ronyo Storm

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PostPosted: Mon Mar 17, 2014 3:38 pm
So you wanna call me the devils' advocate
But you don't even know the half of it
I was raised to believe in miracles
My life is so cold


Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner
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                                              Awkward, it was the only way the really describe how she felt. Lithe legs twisted at her ankles, she shifted her weight to lean against the edge of the doorway as Ron busied his hands. His magic weaved effortlessly; she almost couldn’t help but be jealous. Lately, her wand had been… a bit unruly. It affected the very core and wood of her instrument; she done the research, once, sure. Belle knew the very absolute basics, the jobberknoll feather was used for memory and truth serums, and the wood is—obsessive—in a way. It was a loyal wood, hard to use in a strangers hand and it took to the moral compass of its owner, and ‘particularly sentient,’ she read. She was beginning to realize it more and more. All this time, she hadn’t really been paying much attention to the man who was staring right back at her. She fingered her wand, almost waiting… But she didn’t know what for. By now, she realized how ridiculous she must have seemed—just leering there. So she ushered for him to follow as she stretched her legs and strolled back into the comfort of her loft. It was a bit cramped in the utility room.

                                              ”Wait, what?” She blinked and stifled her bout of laughter. ”Well, I can’t say I’ve ever brushed anyone’s hair but my own, so, I guess there’s a first time for everything?” She smiled sheepishly and shrugged. ”But of course, how could I say no and refuse the chance to tease you for it later?” She smirked, but a small hand gestured to the nearest chair, a pair of bar stools at the edge of her kitchen counter. ”Sit.” She instructed. She had half a mind to summon her hairbrush but thought better of it when she remembered last week, and how her fuzzy slippers “mysteriously” ran into the pile of dirty dishes in her sink, knocking the bloody articulate stack of glass that took hard work to keep from falling over and on to the floor. (It seemed cleaning the dishes were out of the question for her wand, too, and at the time she was too tired to even try wandless efforts.) So she disappeared and dashed down the hall filling her mind with thought of something to do.

                                              When she was back, and when he was ready, she glided delicate fingers through the messy tresses and worked the tangles out from the bottom, working her way up higher to the crown of his head. It was just easier that way. ”So, I haven’t asked you and I almost feel ashamed,” she gushed, obviously over dramatizing whatever it was she was about to say.Trying to keep to routine, trying to be normal, trying to be simple. ”How’s your business? Solve any delicious juicy cases riddled with drama I can spread around?”

                                              Ha, like I have anyone to really gossip with anymore. The thought hurt; it made her miss Hildy and Devin all the more.






[OOC:]
✹✸✷ Her Loft
✹✸✷ Little Red Lamb
Nineteen Years Old 5’7” 139lbs
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Ronyo Storm
 
PostPosted: Tue May 20, 2014 10:05 pm
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𝔸𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕪 𝕚𝕤...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // seeing Lionel (NPC)space
CURRENTLY // Looking Disheveled at Belle's Loftspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Ava, Persephone and Bellespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Furiousspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'I should have known better than to listen to her...' spacespac

♈ ♈ ♈ 'Sweet dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?'
♈ ♈ ♈
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                                                                      spaceAntony didn't even know why he'd come here; when pressed with the need to escape, to take his daughter and cousin and get them both somewhere safe, he'd immediately thought of Belle. Probably because she was the closest thing to a friend he'd had in years... not that they were friends, especially after this. But he didn't have anywhere else to go... He'd seen his aunt and uncle running out the backdoor of the Estate, heard them saying something about Ava being outside, and had at first thought nothing of it, but something had told him to follow them anyway. He was glad he had; by the time he'd arrived on the scene, Nikolas was already... he pushed the thought away, not wanting to think about his uncle right now. Or his aunt, for that matter, since she'd not lasted much longer than her husband. He banged on the door to the flat, not caring who looked; he'd cast a disillusionment charm on Ava, and it seemed to be holding up fairly well... he glanced down at his daughter for the briefest of seconds, swallowing hard at the look of fear in her eyes. He'd have to talk to her now, to explain... to tell her all the things he'd tried not to tell her for all these years. She was almost eleven now, though. She'd have to know... even if it would hurt her. He'd hoped... but it'd been foolish. She couldn't stay innocent forever. Especially not in his family... "Seph, dear, we're... we're going to have to stay with my friend for a while. Just the three of us, okay? I'll explain in a bit, but Ava's very hurt right now, and we have to take care of him." Belatedly, Antony realized he should've taken Ava to the hospital... but he didn't tend to think of that place with any sort of fondness. He certainly didn't think it was safe; after all, it was an obvious place for them to've gone, particularly with Ava's condition. Lysandar would no doubt look for them there... better to keep this under wraps, then. He found himself hoping that Belle, or someone she knew, had some knowledge of healing magic, because he certainly didn't. He sighed and knocked on the door again, louder this time. "Dammit, Belle, open the bloody door! I actually need your help this time!" Unlike last time she'd 'helped' him. His jaw tightened. This was her fault; she was the one who'd convinced him that no harm could come of one date... but it hadn't ended up being one date, now, had it? Because he'd actually liked Lionel, and now Lionel was dead, and his aunt and uncle were dead, and about a dozen other people were dead, all because he'd gone on one bloody date and enjoyed himself too much to turn down the second one... but this was her fault. Definitely.


                                                                      ═════════════════════════════════════════════════
                                                                      ♈ ♈ ♈ 'Traveled the world and the seven seas
                                                                      Everybody's looking for something.'
                                                                      ♈ ♈ ♈


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(( OOC: ))
...


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PostPosted: Thu May 22, 2014 8:10 am
How the нєℓℓ did we wind up like this?
Why weren't we able, to see the signs that we missed
And try to turn the tables
Now the story's played out like this
Just like a paperback novel
Let's rewrite an ending that fits
Instead of a
н σ ℓ ℓ ч ω σ σ ם_ н σ я я σ я


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Annabelle Emery Rich
Blaze of Glory: Dueling Range Owner


                      ”You stupid wand,” she growled, slammed her foot on the floorboards with a heavy thud and chucked the wood of hornbeam clear across the room. It hit the wall and bounced, clattered and rolled to the floor with an undignified pose. She sighed, rubbed her temples and fought for control. I know it's not it's not fault, she repeated to herself, too many times to count. She huffed, lips pursed and brows creased. ”Fine, don't work, see if I care.” To that, her wand seemed to give a puff of smoke, as if, it too, had huffed at her. Her eyes widened and she stuck her nose up in the air. ”Fine!”

                      I am not having an argument with my wand, I'm not! She chastised herself, swiveled on her heel then plopped down on one of the monstrously plush beanbag chairs, and she sunk in deep. The air deflated under her weight as it sucked her in. Great, now I'm hungry, she bemoaned, wiggled her fingers at the fridge that she could only barely see at the corner of her eyes and huffed again before giving up. She knew she wasn't hungry; she was just bored, or depressed, it was always hard to tell the difference sometimes. Thud, thud, thud, the knock that beat down her down paused and then continued again. Thud, thud thud, thud.

                      Go away, she wanted to whine, she wiggled in her seat to turn her back to the door. Whoever it was, it couldn't be important, could it?

                      ”Dammit, Belle, open the bloody door! I actually need your help this time!” Her ears pricked, head perked up—that had certainly gotten her attention—and she tripped over her heels to fly on her feet. There was a desperation dripping off each and every word, pooling into something vicious and acidic as it crept beneath her doorway and seeped inside. The floorboards were toxic. The dread, she could already feel it with every step even if she couldn't understand it.

                      One at a time, the click, click, click, of locks sounded behind the doorway from the touch of her hand on the doorknob. Then it swiveled, clicked, and creaked as she opened the door wide. She expected the clarity to slap her in the face, for, something to make sense. But she only really saw Antony and Persephone, not the bundle he'd hidden from view. ”Antony...” She wanted to say more. Instead, she stood aside and ushered the pair in, and for a split second, she swore she saw the silhouette or shadow of a third body shift inside her loft. Regardless, she poked her head out the doorway and once satisfied that no one had followed she then hastily closed the door. The moment her fingers released the metal, the locks all began to click into place. ”What?” Her voice was flat, eyes narrowed. It wasn't uncaring (or at least not intended to be,) she was just boiling over that argument with her wand still.







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✹✸✷A House is a Home
✹✸✷ Witches Be Trippinʼ
Twenty-one Years Old 5’7” 139lbs
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