Streets of Knockturn Alley

[Professor Tahiri]

❤❤ T A M A R A♛R A D C L I F F E

HOGWARTS GRADUATE
￤￤ if you're going through hell, keep on going
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Tamara knew someone was approaching when they triggered her charm and slipped her wand back to her palm. When the person rounded the corner, she was relieved to see that it was one of her former mentors, and the person she was here to meet. She drew back her hood and made eye contact with Eldak. "Hello Professor. Or should I just call you Eldak now?" she said with her trademark smile.  

[Professor Tahiri]

Eldak Athlis
Defense Against the Dark Arts

Eldak jerked when the figure moved, but as soon as he saw her eyes, and he was sure she was a her, he knew who it was. Tamara Radcliffe... He released a heavy sigh he was holding and slipped his wand back into his pocket. "Merlin's beard Tamara, you care the hell out of me. Why is your hair black? And yes, you can call me Eldak now, I guess." He rubbed his temples and breathed another heavy sigh. Since his sister's disappearance, there had been a heavy weight on his heart. When Tamara responded that she would meet him in Knockturn Alley, he felt an apprehension he had not felt in so long. Now confronted with his former student, he was not exactly sure how he should feel.  

[Professor Tahiri]

❤❤ T A M A R A♛R A D C L I F F E

HOGWARTS GRADUATE
￤￤ if you're going through hell, keep on going
xxxxxxxxxx x x

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Tamara smirked when he commented about her hair and she flipped it in a girly show of affection. "It helps me to slip through Knockturn Alley without drawing much attention. Okay Eldak, I got the general gist of what you want me to do. Let's slip out of the alleyway and head to the Leaky Cauldron." She started walking along the path she had been following, winding through the back alleyways that led the Diagon Alley.

{Exit to Leaky Cauldron}  

[Professor Tahiri]

Eldak Athlis
Defense Against the Dark Arts

Eldak rubbed his temples and nodded to his former student, amazed at how mature she had become since she graduated from Hogwarts. Without a word, he followed her out of the winding alleys and towards the Leaky Cauldron. He mused what about what his former student would say when they reached their destination, how she planned to approach the situation, and lastly, how much this would cost him.  

[Pale Mist]

owner of moribund's
walker and ears of knockturn alley
'the spider'




The chill evening air of a summer day spent of sunlight brushed the woman's dried and withering features as she escaped her own tavern. Treading with such ghostly air and delicate touch of caution, not one of her patrons or specimens seemed aware of her sudden lack. The fiery imprint of the image of the hallow and deadened face of rock of The Hunting Falcon - Hunter Garren - burned her caged sight. Tongues of dark pull commanding her to return to the sphere of flesh and meat that had presented itself as the character of her next spun web's story - return and free him. Create the path for him as she had for so many countless others. Each more blind than the one before, even oblivious to the illuminated truth she always had to interpret for them. Even with her words, her translations and her iron grip on their offered wrists, they could never truly see it. Ever blind to what was so obvious for her that she could paint it for them with blood and molten silver. To her it was a story, a bed time fairytale she cooed and hissed into their ears they had to peel the layers from. So much unsaid when she screeched in irritation and an expression of a different confinement apart from the cage over her eyes - she always ripped at her rage to burn them, scatter them as ash for their ignorance. They were in a different reality - maybe the only reality to her insanity - but they were always blind. She saw each strand they did not, each red connection that pulled and played like puppets so often. A world of one spread web - each piece and spun part so important to the base. A discovery of purpose which she already knew. Be she Spider or The Hanging Tree.
And Hunter Garren had purpose, great as it seemed. Strong and illuminated by a sickly light of yellow - of brandished gold. He lay clearly connected to the closely-twined strand of Remington Nott. That man seemed one of the most sturdy strands. A fortification to the base that branched off in so many areas she could hardly keep could. But she did. And it was his strand that now vibrated with such intensity before her that is physically made her eyes tear at the vibrance of it. It pulled her closer, demanded her attention stronger that that of the Falcon. The Snake needed her now - he was lost once more.
So sickly thin fingers played with the strands of fraying hair as skeletal back absorbed the cold and cutting texture of the brick against which it pressed. Shadowed and captive eyes scanning the details and speed of small streams of water as they copulated together towards the sewer opening. Teeth cracked and ripping at the inside of her thin cheek, tasting blood and reminding the rest of the reeling mind that there was still life in the this vessel as she awaited for the Snake to Slither. Every word and motion and flash of gold already revealing itself before her second sight. How dull she had to relive everything twice. That they had to and never even knew they were broken records.

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

Looking back at me,
I see that I never really got it right
I never stopped to think of you
I was wrapped up in things I cannot win

Alexander Evan Rich
.........Head of International Magical Office of Law

✔Location: Knockturn Alley
.....✔Desires: Security
..........✔Troubles: Patience

It had been a long and cumbersome venture, he had realized. His debts had begun to fade into the background, nowhere near as pressing to the bone as they had once been—and for once—he felt like he could breathe. What he had done, he would have done for much simpler. Scrambling paperwork at the ministry, clamoring on about false leads, and miscommunications. More often than not, he would be cast with the overwhelming desire to throw this life, and everything that it held for him behind; but not even he could be that selfish. His wife, his daughter, who would they turn to then?

The pitter patter of the droplets cascading from the rafters collided all around him, it hadn’t rained in days, but somehow, the darkest recesses of this alley would absorb all it could—and never release it. Not a doubt had crossed his mind that he would find, or rather, she would find him. He didn’t know where, didn’t know when, but it had been over weeks since he had last heard from her. But where was he going? He didn't know.

Her, he didn’t even know who she was, or what she was, for that matter. The crawling realization of something cynical and sinister had long since began to cling to his bones with loose, leathery flesh tainted a pale hue. And, for one small moment, he came to ponder the whereabouts of his wife, her escapades—and if she ever even missed him at all.

But he forced himself to roll his eyes, and why shouldn’t he? She can barely remember who he is in the mornings anymore.

 

[Professor Tahiri]

❤❤ T A M A R A♛R A D C L I F F E

HOGWARTS GRADUATE
￤￤ if you're going through hell, keep on going
xxxxxxxxxx x x

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Quiet as a mouse, Tamara blended into the crowd, her hair still dyed black and concealed in her heavy traveling cloak. The cloak itself looked unremarkable from the next, just another witch huddled against the cold of the almost winter's day. She still had eyes on her target, Alexander Rich. So far, her observations of him had been boring. A quick jaunt to the grocery store here, off to work, back from work, et cetera. This trip to Knockturn Alley was her best lead yet, as not many came here. She was aware of one thing right now; she was cold, uncomfortable and beginning to get a feeling that either nothing was going on here, or something very bad was going on. Another thing crossed her mind... Remington Nott. He owned a building around here, and he simply creeped her out. Something was up with that guy, she knew. What if he spotted her? He might recognize her. Gritting her teeth, she quashed the thought; she needed to be here to tail him.  

[Essy ze Ninja]

Looking back at me,
I see that I never really got it right
I never stopped to think of you
I was wrapped up in things I cannot win

Alexander Evan Rich
.........Head of International Magical Office of Law

✔Location: Leaving Knockturn Alley
.....✔Desires: Security
..........✔Troubles: Patience

The disappearance of these outstanding loans and debts had been the precise reason why Lilith Rich nee Montague had decidedly begun her inquiry of investigations. But, Alexander would have never guessed. In his mind, his wife was too perilous, too scarred and damaged to ever realize the difference in income. She had, of course, realized such immediately—much unknown to Alexander.

His trips were laborious, and more oft than not, pointless. Whether it was delivering post by hand, or buying potion ingredients by the bulk, it was always bland, and droll. Except now…

He hovered between the shadows, clinging close to the muck and grime painted along every stone wall, or brick house, as he shoved past the crowd. The further within he slithered, the faster, and quicker he went. Until he was practically rushing from one end, to the next.. It wasn’t until he had slowed to a stop would it be noted that he decidedly circled around himself, again, and again. Taking the same left turn here, and the same right turn there.

Was he well aware that someone was following him? And was he trying to lose them? Or was it simple paranoia? Or instruction?

When he had finally ceased in this whirl, it was only to retreat to where he first began—a desolate corner on the edge of Knockturn and near bordering Diagon Alley. A shrouded, cloaked figure had awaited him, and after a brief moment of hushed tones, an exchange had occurred. The sack clinked together as hands exchanged, and then a sliver of parchment had been slipped into the fingers of Alexander Rich, and then he was off again. This time, towards the winding path uphill that crept into Diagon Alley.

Exit to: Alley off of Diagon Alley

 

[Professor Tahiri]

❤❤ T A M A R A♛R A D C L I F F E

HOGWARTS GRADUATE
￤￤ if you're going through hell, keep on going
xxxxxxxxxx x x

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Tamara kept a close eye on Alexander Rich while maintaining her distance from her target. She was aware of the fact that he was going in circles, although she was not sure if he was doing it out of paranoia or if he knew he was being followed. But she needed to keep on him, or she might miss something... like that exchange he just made. It was very subtle, and only a close eye would have noticed it. Tamara's close eyes, however, caught the exchange and saw his sudden change in appearance. He headed towards Diagon Alley, and that meant that Tamara was heading that way too.  

[Essy ze Ninja]

Maybelline Johnson
Inquirer of the Daily Prophet

The winds, they crept, close and faithful. Howling whispers screeched at her sway, coursing and curling at the mouth of the baneful and perilous dwelling in the midst of the infamous street, Knockturn Alley. Sable curls bounced with every sway as lithe motions swept on the prowl. Vindictive, predatory eyes of illustrious crystalline gems flashed vehement and wild and fiery, reds, and blues, and greens, and golds. Rose red lips pursed tight on porcelain of ivory, and, Maybelline was nothing, if not curious. ”What happened to you?” The wondrous bout of wildfire had sparked so adamantly in her eyes as memories shot in a haze with rounds of rapid fire burst. And her wisp of words glided on the winds, encircling, round and round. She had heard the tales beseeched by forked tongues and black eyes. She had heard the core of it, rotten and mutilated on cracked lips. She had heard of the death in his family, it tainted the front page of the Daily Prophet all of those years ago. She had taken heed of the whispers, lurched by the damned and unforgiving, and manipulated by those who were not. ”I heard the news about your father,” But she bit back any condolences, it was common knowledge how the two had been. But the winds showed no such kindness, incisions across marred skin with the threat of lethal words echoing against the shrill, ”—And then you disappeared.” Her voice cooed into gentle flurries, gliding on air, whimsical and free, wrapping words around his neck until her breaths streamed down his spine, and, it almost seemed as if she were right there— right behind him— trickling her lips against his flesh.

Halting in her stride, she swirled on her heel to face him firmly with only the tale of curiosity a lit in her eyes. Soft, rounded features pointed, narrow and slender, as all of her vivacity had suddenly fallen upon the weight on his shoulders. Defiance roared ominous in her eyes; though she was sure her doubts would forever be left unfounded. This man had once been a boy, a boy that she once knew, and, so deeply hated. The pulsating forces rippled at the seams, titillating sway of emotion as the Gods pressed their lips up to the world and swallowed. And the harsh winds glided down across the face of the earth, swirling restless and cold—

Leaving them all alone.

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Location: Knockturn Alley with Hunter

Desires: Possibilities

Troubles: Past

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[Porcelaine Ivory]

LOCATION: Knockturn Alley MOOD: Serious OBJECTIVE: Forgiveness



Hunter—who had bouncing on his heels with excitement of the new adventure—stopped abruptly in the center of the street, the soles of his shoes grinding noisily against the cobbled stone.

Images, pain, and emotion flashed before his eyes, filled his veins, and hardened his thoughts like a sudden ice storm, freezing his expression into one of wary indifference. He read every question that swept across the woman's face. She was truly curious, but her curiosity had only reminded him of his injured past; his over-controlling father who had quite literally squashed the life out of him and served as the fuel behind why he had been such a pest to Maybelline—and most of the students—back in school.

And then—after finally eradicating the problems that had haunted him for so many years—he had disappeared. He had vanished into nearly thin air, leaving everyone and everything behind after graduation without so much as a word of acknowledgement.

Doing his best to wash away the pain that poisoned his now serious expression, Hunter shrugged his shoulders and began walking again. "Just needed to get away for a while. Ya know...wanted a change in scenery and all. Seven years in the same bloody castle can do that to a person..." His voice trailed off helplessly into the night's wind, the blandness in his voice blatantly giving off his reluctance to say much more.

Stopping again suddenly, he turned back to the dark-haired beauty, his rugged hands finding her shoulders with a gentle, yet urgent hold. "Look Maybelline," he began before hesitating for a moment. "all that nonsense back there—" he told her, gesturing back towards Moribund's with light nod, "—might've been just a show for you, but I meant what I said. Really, I was complete fool to treat you the way I did back then. You didn't deserve that—nor did any of the other children I tortured. I just—I mean...I wish—hahhhh..." he sighed uselessly, knowing that nothing he said would do his thoughts justice. Instead, he settled for a traditional apology. "I'm truly sorry—and I promise to make it up to you to the best of my ability. Will you forgive me—in time..?"

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

Maybelline Johnson
Inquirer of the Daily Prophet

Maybelline’s sudden instigation had drifted too abrupt, she realized, taking note of his abrupt halt and swirling heel, and every smooth ease of control had slipped from his face with a hardened grace. A chill suddenly crept down her spine as he spun on her; the intensity of his clouded gaze left her silent, and speechless.

And, he lied. Or, she supposed, in any case. The sincerity of leaving behind such a wasted life seemed, reasonable, but too foreign to repeat with justice. Her ever-changing gaze sparkled with curiosities, and her lips parted to speak, but pursed together tightly as his voice spurred once more, and much more serious. Heavy hands had fallen on her shoulders before she could stumble backwards, and, so captivated, all she could do was shake her head. ”You don’t have to apologize,” soft, nurturing tone of voice pooled around her tongue as her hearts strings pricked melodiously, a harp too fierce to play. ”Hunter, it’s okay.” She whispered, hesitant fingers hovering close, just a few mere scarce breaths away from him, before softly caressing the strict and rigid structure of his features, affection awkward, and alien to her.

”You can’t let the past keep troubling you, trust me.” As if only just realizing her stance, swirling so close within his own, harbored under hands, her own supple flesh tingling over the grain of hair stretching across his chin and cheeks—she pulled away. Halfheartedly, she wished for the serpent that she knew he was hiding, the trait they both encompassed. She had, in her own sense, loved every sense of merriment experience on the battlefield, on and off the quidditch pitch, and up and down the castle corridors. She had honestly enjoyed the prospect of vengeance, of rivaling foes. He, of course, had had much more experience and had always won, regardless. In hindsight, he probably never realized the challenge was ever there.

”Besides, I should be thanking you,” Maybelline hurried to change the subject, slipping herself free from his grasp and alluding to the promise of shadows and gusts of swirling winds. ”You helped me, y’know—and I never really hated you as much as I led you to believe, truly.” Despite all of her best efforts, she could not feign the deep set guilt that had caused such a sudden change in reaction from this boy she had once known.

”Remember when you got detention for Professor Hughes, but you never actually did anything…. Yeah, well—that was because of me.” Maybelline flashed a pearly, sheepish smile.

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Location: Knockturn Alley with Hunter

Desires: Possibilities

Troubles: Past

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[Essy ze Ninja]

Slip out the back before they know you were there

and at the worst you'll see nobody cares,

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

William Dante Nott the Third

Fifth Year, Slytherin

Cracked concrete streets began to break away, toiled in trouble, riddled with moss, grit, grime, and, in some instances, copper tinged stains that had bled into the dull and gray winding road leading far south into Knockturn Alley. The wind howled through the streets churning signs on hinges and scattering articles of an old issue of the Daily Prophet until it slapped into a puddle of rotten brown. Darkly dressed wizards in tattered robes muttered incoherent under their harsh breaths and split lips. Oft times, the foreboding silhouettes spurred a nod forward, and with the slightest glimpse of his gold eyes, the young heir of Nott would nod an acknowledgment in return in silence to those nefarious beings skulking under the rule off his uncle.

Silence had plagued the crisp summer breeze as the pair of students winded deep into the recesses blanketed in the comfort of darkness. The lean boy of auburn stood half past the five foot as he gathered his robes tight around his frame to ward off the chill that always crept in this district. "What do you think of seers, Trinity?

"Do you see any truth? Or you one of those lots that think its all rubbish?" He wondered, his destination and intents now clear as he set his sights upon The Starry Prophesier.

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Location: Knockturn Alley with Trinity Wood
Mood: Passive
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..even heroes know when to be scared.

 

[Maiya Kajuji]

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Trinity walked along side William rather quietly. She glanced around at the many shady looking figures surrounding. She couldn't say she wasn't very used to this. Most of these people were probably some who related her, or someone who had slept with her mother. Yes definitely used to this type. It didn't make her any happier though. Trinity didn't mind Knockturn Alley and in fact was quite thrilled to be here but that didn't say anything for the locals.

Just then William began speaking again. She raised an eyebrow. "Seers?" She thought for a moment. "Well honestly it depends on who is doing the seeing. I think there are truly people out there that have the gift to see things that will come." She said as she brushed a hair from her face. "My mother has seen her fair share of seers. Only once have a heard something for one of them that actually occurred. I do believe most of them are pure rubbish."

ooc;
MADE BY PURPLEINATOR

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TRINITY WOOD
xxxxxxxxxxSlytherin

 

[Porcelaine Ivory]

LOCATION: Knockturn Alley MOOD: Revived OBJECTIVE: Make it last



Hunter let out a long, deep breath as the woman tried to console him, and he let his hand roam idly up to his hair, now tousled from the wind. Why did she care so much all of a sudden? he wondered. His brow furrowed at the thought, until that thought was disrupted by warmth.

Like warm butterbeer on a cold evening, it swept through him at her touch, and his gravelly features softened into sand, disintegrated by the woman's bold gesture. Or bold to him, it seemed, for her agitation shown clearly on her face, unfitting for a woman with such a presence.

Even after she revoked her smooth touch, the goosebumps lingered along his neck, and a spark of something new danced in the depths of his dark, emerald-black eyes.

As she carried on the conversation, he found himself barely listening, being instead carried away by the ideas she had struck within him. However, at the mention of Professor Hughes, he raised his eyes from the stony earth, finding hers immediately. Seeing the grin on her face knocked the wind out of him for a moment, not for the secrets it proposed, but for the beauty it beheld. Then, a little late, he let out a bellowing laugh that echoed playfully down the alley, reverberating between the shop walls as it went. "Yes, yes, I remember. I missed the winter ball because of that detention," he noted, thinking back on the lonely occasion. "I bet all three of my dates were grieved at my absence, too. You should be ashamed of yourself," Hunter told her with a beaming smirk of his own, crossing his arms and scolding her playfully with his eyes.

With another laugh, the man put thought to something he hadn't formerly at the mention of his detention. "So who did you go with? To the ball, I mean. I'm sure not everyone took your beauty for granted as I did..." His rough voice decreased with volume as it increased with meaning, his eyes moving back to hers for a brief moment while she answered.


[[OOC: Soooooooooooooo sorry for keeping you so long. I always seem to forget about poor little Hunter. sweatdrop ]]