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Maybelline Johnson
Inquirer of the Daily Prophet
Inquirer of the Daily Prophet
Maybelline bit back the breath threatened to be captured and locked away, held tight in the confines of a jar of hearts grasped firm and tight in his hands. Her breath wouldn’t be taken away, not so easily, it couldn't. It was her curse. The threat of blood hung ominous, its hands tearing at her flesh and ripping at her skin until she had to calm herself, and then release her plump lip from the threat of her teeth.
He lingered idle, caught in the chasms of a world not far from here, but too far to ever touch with her fingers. She tilted her head to the left, long before the roar of laughter echoed past his own lips, warm to the touch, she wondered.
What would her friends say of her now? Here, with him?
And smiling.
”Oh?” She mused, a cocky brow rising, the soft hum of her words gliding on the wings of the wind as it caressed his ears, slithered down around his neck, and trickling down his spine.
”Perhaps I was saving you the hell of women’s scorn by thrice?” She accused, daring and challenging as she reaffirmed herself with a pointed finger, and, gently prodding it into his chest with a poke in the process. ”Didn’t think about that one, mate, did ya?” Allowing the lingering grin to spread, and her eyes locked within his, a silence swirled.
”Besides… I didn’t go to the ball—don’t think I went to any of them, really. Had loads more fun drinking at The Three Broomsticks, don’t tell me you serpentine lot never went out and had a little fun, hm?” She teased, fire dancing in her crystalline eyes, each flickering plume bleeding a miasma of color into her twinkling eyes.
He lingered idle, caught in the chasms of a world not far from here, but too far to ever touch with her fingers. She tilted her head to the left, long before the roar of laughter echoed past his own lips, warm to the touch, she wondered.
What would her friends say of her now? Here, with him?
And smiling.
”Oh?” She mused, a cocky brow rising, the soft hum of her words gliding on the wings of the wind as it caressed his ears, slithered down around his neck, and trickling down his spine.
”Perhaps I was saving you the hell of women’s scorn by thrice?” She accused, daring and challenging as she reaffirmed herself with a pointed finger, and, gently prodding it into his chest with a poke in the process. ”Didn’t think about that one, mate, did ya?” Allowing the lingering grin to spread, and her eyes locked within his, a silence swirled.
”Besides… I didn’t go to the ball—don’t think I went to any of them, really. Had loads more fun drinking at The Three Broomsticks, don’t tell me you serpentine lot never went out and had a little fun, hm?” She teased, fire dancing in her crystalline eyes, each flickering plume bleeding a miasma of color into her twinkling eyes.
[[Oh, gods, it's okay! I always seem to forget about my Maybel too! O.O Which reminds me, did you still want to do the Hunter/Remy plot? Or did you want to skip some of the actual running around, maybe even time skip and say it already happened, since Pale isn't back yet, and she plays a rather big part to it..?]]
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Location: Knockturn Alley with Hunter
Desires: A little fun, myself
Troubles: Past
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