The Silver Heart Circle - IC

rissa · Oct 23, 2016

THE SILVER HEART CIRCLE
IC | OOC | RP INFO | CS

CHAPTER ONE - MAY THE DARKNESS BIND THEM

SCENE ONE - WHAT LIES AHEAD & WHY YOU'VE BEEN CHOSEN
SCENE TWO
SCENE THREE

CloudyBlueDay · Nov 9, 2016

ELEANOR ROSEWELL

The room continued to fill, little by little. Eleanor wondered if more had been invited or this was all the Silver Heart Circle cared to have join them. Despite Eleanor's clear wish to stay hidden in the corner chair, one of the men who entered found it suitable to sit rather close by. Eleanor shuffled around in her seat, her gaze going anywhere but his face. She couldn't quite bring herself to make small talk now. Ellie was nervous and uncomfortable, in this room full of strangers, in this situation where she knew nothing. It was too much for her to bear.

The next person to enter surely had some giant heritage within him, especially in his loud booming voice, which actually made Eleanor flinch, just because of the apprehensive state she was already in. However, the man, Jonathon trailed off before he actually stated the name of the very thing they were all here for. The more tired looking girl filled it in for him, but it still left Eleanor with an eyebrow raised. How interesting that he could not find the courage to speak the name.

Every person that entered had a sentence or two to share, every one seeming to be questioning what exactly what was going on. All except one, walking in with a broom stick tucked under her arm, short black hair chopped off at the shoulders.

Her heart felt as if it dropped to her stomach, once she finally realized. Eleanor's posture changed dramatically in an instant, from slouched and hidden to alert and almost panicked. She gripped her low collared shirt and tugged it up, above the scar, as much as she could cover. You own so many turtlenecks, Eleanor. So many. You couldn't have worn one? You couldn't have? It had been so long, too long, too long burying it away, she'd only just managed to push it into the deepest corners of her mind. Why now? Why here? Her mind was spinning to fast. She could hardly follow along with the words Torin spoke, her dark brown eyes swirling with thought and worry.

"I'm willing to answer all your questions before we get to business." Eleanor looked up, startled, as if Torin had only begun to speak just then. She'd missed the entire welcoming speech. Eleanor leaned back in her seat and put a hand to her temple, brows furrowed and face twisted in frustration. The quieter young man mentioned friends that were not able to come, and Eleanor considered raising her hand to ask some sort of filler question just to get herself back into focus when one of the women, Frankie Ramone, rose angrily, hand on her wand which still was hidden away. "'The hell did you and Tonto take out of Jim Taylor's casket..." Eleanor rose just so slightly from the cushions, prepared to take action if need be.

The action of fleeing, that was. Eleanor felt it would be most appropriate in a situation like this.

Effervescent · Nov 9, 2016

Ava's fingers gripped the armrests of her chair as she slowly pulled herself to a stand. The final woman that entered introduced the gathered to the Silver Heart Circle; the very illusive organization she had been intrigued to discover herself. This was perhaps the greatest resource in spearheading the attacks from the Red Serpent, even if there had to be a nondisclosure. Secrets were her forte.

Hands clutching the leather strap of her purse, Ava's eyes settled upon the woman, fixed in a stare to imprint the moment in her memory to memorize each syllable with care. It was a simple introduction; vague and open ended to allow questioning to fill the gaps. She had her questions and skepticism that removed her tunnel vision to bring back the rest of the room into her view. Everyone present was hand selected, and she didn't doubt there was likely hidden talents within each one. But a couple of them looked far too young to expose them to what lay ahead.

Frankie shot up from her seat in a fury with a clear personal question fired at the lady, a hand oddly situated upon her frame. Ava changed her stance instinctively as she surmised the reason, her hand slowly moving into position should the need arise to produce her own wand. She had no intention of posing her own questions now, and she looked from Frankie to the woman to gauge the tension. Who was Jim Taylor and why did this person steal from a dead body?

A coffee was needed. It was too early for conflict, and Ava felt her body's fatigue in her alertness. She kept a list of her surroundings to keep it all in check. Nico was brushed aside after his presentation of clout in a name only the woman before them may recognize. Frankie had dominated the scene with a tone of anger that bit into her voice. The wallflower girl tensed in her chair in a manner that suggested flight over fight. All eyes were turned to the front of the room by the entrance. It was the only direct way out. She used her peripherals to locate other means. While Ava knew she could disarm Frankie swiftly before the situation got out of hand, she did not wish to deal with even one fearful mind getting in the way of spell casting.

"Maybe explain who Jim Taylor is for the rest of the class," Ava said flatly, "and why this information is more pertinent than anything to do with the Red Serpent."

Elle Joyner · Nov 11, 2016

no-lightbox

New York City, New York

She knew the reactions she was getting... knew that she had set the room on edge. A piece of her regretted the reaction, but the thoughts revolving around in her mind were inescapable. She needed answers, and she was going to get them, whatever it took. But it wasn't her intention to start trouble, and it certainly wasn't her intention to wind up on the bad side of a Van Helsing. Her eyes flickered over to Ava as she spoke and frowning softly, she looked to the severe woman from the funeral, eyes narrowing.

"Jim Taylor was my trainer... He was like a father to me." The words struck her, harder than she'd meant for them to... and she realized in that moment it was probably because she'd never actually spoken them out loud. But it was true. Her own father had been as much a part of her life as he could, but that didn't mean much when he was gone, almost constantly. It was Jim who had been there for her after her mother's death. It was Jim who had shown her the attention, the consideration that she'd desperately needed as a young, lonely teenage girl.

Eyes stinging, she grit her teeth, hands dropping to her side into tight fists that left her knuckles bleach white, "Someone murdered him and left him to rot in an alley... and this one and her boyfriend? They ripped him off at his own funeral... Leaves one with a few questions."

"Jim Taylor," Toren announced to the room, her eyes however, were on the young witch in front of her. It was clear she toyed with the idea of exposing her wand. Tor smiled softly, admiring the nerve, but it vanished as quick as it came. Taylor was above all, a rare creature who exuded love and kindness like it was his duty. "Was an exceedingly powerful wizard and a dear friend who was murdered by the Red Serpent for knowing too much."

She glanced at Frankie, curious of her reaction and then over to the latest Van Helsing prodigy. Harwin himself had referred the woman and the name wasn't one easily forgotten.

Tor sighed and reached into her breast pocket, wondering if she'd somehow foreseen this encounter. Her hands circled around a small circular pendant and she pulled it out with care. Frankie was right, to an extent, about her and Rhassa taking something from Taylor's casket. They had a damn good reason as to why. The pendant was slightly bigger than a galleon, silver instead of gold, and inlaid with the Silver Heart crest. Somehow, his murderers hadn't managed to take it... and for that, they should all be grateful.

"Here." Tor said, holding the pendant out to Frankie. "He would have wanted you to have it, I think."

Was an exceedingly powerful wizard...

It felt like a slap. Ten years. Ten years she had known Jim. Ten years, he'd been a constant in her life... a friend, a father figure, a guardian, a guide. And yet here she was, standing in front of a stranger and she was effectively floored by a revelation that she should have known. She should have known.

The woman held out the pendant and for a moment Frankie could do nothing but stare, her heart pounding in her chest, so intensely it made her head ache. Tears stung her eyes, biting and sharp, but blinking, she reached out and with shaky fingers, took hold of it, turning it over to inspect it.

There was little question in her mind that it was true. All of it. She was nothing, if not a decent judge of character, and there was little in the woman's eyes, in her expression that suggested she was lying. She had little reason to... But that didn't make it better. Somehow, it almost made it worse. She needed a drink... she needed a smoke... any hell of a distraction... but shock filled her with a numbness that left her frozen.

Willing herself to move, she dropped back into her seat again, and with watery eyes, looked up, nodding, "...Thank you."

Nodding her head briskly, Tor turned from the display of emotion and countless memories flashed through her mind. Jim Taylor, from what she gathered over the years, had been the one to encourage Rhassa to seek her out. Taylor was one hell of a man and an incredibly wise and powerful wizard. He taught many during his years and often joked about his prodigies. Torin glanced back at Frankie and wondered is she was looking at another one of his students.

She cleared her throat and held out her hand for Nico Matsumoto. "I expect I know who those letters belong to. Ryan frequently mentions you three." She looked around the room at everyone who had gathered for a life changing… request.

"Anymore questions?"

collab with @Fyrelily, @Effervescent, @allyall

Folksy · Nov 13, 2016

[img]https://s21.postimg.org/j2po23ixj/tumblr_o6q3cp_Rqh_Z1rk1cx8o1_500_2.png[/img][img]https://s18.postimg.org/uungkn4dl/tumblr_o6q3cp_Rqh_Z1rk1cx8o1_500.png[/img][img]https://s17.postimg.org/tos1pmsq7/tumblr_o6q3cp_Rqh_Z1rk1cx8o1_500_4.png[/img]

MEMPHIS TEMOAK

Memphis sat quietly while people poured in. A large athletic man came in who immediately gave his name and greeted everyone warmly. He reminded Memphis of Santa Claus for some reason. He couldn't shake the image that Santa had just come in to orientation for a very secret and violent organization. The new guy and the two girls who talked spoke to each other for a second while Memphis tried to stuff the names he'd heard into his head. He was terrible at names, and he probably wouldn't know their names for a while. Next came a guy who looked like he was fresh out of Ilvermorny who talked about not having to wait or something. Memphis was sure this kid wasn't fresh out of school but he just looked too young to be there.

Memphis allowed his attention to drift from the young man, and the fact that the door was opening again, to observe the girl across from him. He tried to do so discretely, but he wanted to know more about her and why she was being so quiet. In truth, he decided it was probably for similar reasons as him. He wasn't very personable. At least his not-personable-ness would prevent him from storming into a potentially dangerous situation saying "Wow look at those doors here's my name and my wand type and oh here's my MACUSA ID number while I'm at it." Memphis tried suppressing his judgemental thoughts but he couldn't help be surprised at how people were treating this like it was a no-maj book club or something.

Before he got too angry, though, a woman came into the room with an air of knowledge as she welcomed them all to The Silver Heart Circle. Memphis leaned forward towards her. He was all ears. She told them all the SHC was there to protect everyone. Memphis was inwardly scoffing up until he heard "the Red Serpents," and his ears perked up. He knew when he got his letter that they had something to do with fighting that terror group. Memphis could have done without all the sentimentality the lady spoke about protection and "the country we love," though. He would stay just for a chance at revenge, but he wasn't going to say that out loud.

Before Memphis could think of what he wanted to ask, the asian wizard assured the woman that someone else was coming . . . or something. Then all the sudden the girl with the black bob had a controlled outburst and Memphis noticed a couple people reached for their wands. He made his face into stone in the situation and remained calm, not reaching for his wand just yet. The Van-Helsing woman demanded an explanation and probably one of the most awkward moments Memphis had ever been in ensued when the Orientation-Lady basically told Black Bob that her mentor was apart of the SHC, killed in action, and then she stole a SHC pendant from his dead body. Well. It was said more or less, but Memphis could fill in the gaps.

When Orientation-Lady asked for anymore questions Memphis spoke up, "Uh yeah… Who are you?"

Effervescent · Nov 15, 2016

Frankie's interruption was clarified to point its foundation. There was some justification in the interrogation despite its minor importance in the grand scheme. Ava watched as the fiery woman lowered herself back into that atrocious chair, the upholstery framing her spry silhouette like a solemn painting. She moved her hand away from her wand as tensions died, eyes lingering on the trinket the woman across from her received. She did not sit back down, nor did she really move from her place as she stood, body shifting weight from one foot slowly to the other. It suddenly felt like Frankie hadn't challenged the present company with the shift to nonchalant.

She honestly hadn't heard of the man named Jim Taylor despite his alleged infamy as touted by the woman of the Silver Heart Circle. The states were heavily populated, and while it was common not to know every hidden treasure it still somewhat pricked at Ava's mind. Her family had a conglomerate of different connections and assets from centuries of networking, all of which had proven themselves useful just as they were to them. She looked away with downcast eyes both in contemplation and a minute pang of shame for having not known this wizard.

But her gaze made its way back to the woman who had brushed away Frankie's emotional outburst. Who exactly was she? A dear friend of a great wizard, yes, and a member of the Silver Heart Circle. Allegedly. The Native American man expressed the very same interest nearly as soon as the woman asked for more questions. Ava finally look steps forward and around the assortment of seating as she watched the woman carefully for her answer.

"And," she added calmly, "why should we trust you? The Red Serpent is a clever sort. Manipulation tactics like this date back decades even outside magic. A long con to take down an organization, or even a nation. So forgive my skepticism if I'm seeing some similarities between this and history, but I do think some convincing is in order on your end. This is a risky business and it looks like you've preyed on easy targets for whatever this may be."

Doctor Jax · Nov 15, 2016

[bg=black] JONATHON RIES

The big man's shoulders fell gratefully as two women -- a tired looking lady and the girl with the short bob and thick Boston accent -- confirmed his suspicions. Oh, well, perfect! He was indeed in the right place. For some reason, this was both a terrifying and riveting prospect. If his father ever got a wind of him working for what was essentially a vigilante group... No, no, this wasn't the time to be thinking about that.

A few more people came in, most of whom Jonathon didn't know -- he had, after all, been living under a rock the last four years, or might as well have been -- and while he stayed out of the conversation, he did take notice of everyone. Though they were trying for nonchalance, it was obvious that there was a thrum of anxiety in the air. Even the more confident people, like the two girls who'd spoken to him, had a bit of that nervous energy. Jonathon himself knew he probably radiated it. He wasn't a particularly confident person by nature, though he thought himself the type to bear a real spine.

Then, another witch came in and explained that she was here to clarify things about the SHC. His heart beat in his chest like a tambourine at a hippie festival. He had so many questions, but for some reason they wouldn't crystallize into words. However, it seemed he didn't need to come up with questions. A small kerfuffle happened as the girl with the bob -- did she ever say her name? he couldn't remember -- accused the lady of... taking... something from a dead body. While he'd expected the other woman to refute this, instead she procured the thing that had been on a corpse instead.

Jonathon's mouth stayed open for a good while before he sighed heavily and shut his mouth, the spitfire going to sit down while the other woman skeptically questioned the group's credentials.

"I'm going to be honest -- if this is legitimate, I'm not entirely sure what each of us is doing here. Not to say you aren't talented wizards, but.... well, me, I'm an apprentice wandmaker. Not exactly the fighting type, besides. If you'd wanted to either recruit (or put a dent in) the wizarding population's best and brightest, I'm a little confused why you'd pick this guy here," Jonathon admitted, holding up his hand to clarify who exactly he was talking about. His hand nearly brushed the ceiling, and he yanked it back down as he realized that he'd almost hit the light fixture. Darn height... they never make buildings tall enough...

@Elle Joyner @monopoisoner @Effervescent @Cloudily[/bg][/QUOTE]

monopoisoner · Nov 16, 2016

NICO MATSUMOTO
PRETTY BANNER COMING IN THE STORE NEAREST YOU

Chaos erupted, though it was contained. One moment he was the center of attention, the next he'd been forgotten in the anger that simply radiated from the woman with the black hair. Questions were asked, wands readied, said questions answered, only to bring forth more queries. He could only be relieved when the letters were taken from his hand and he could slink back into a chair, preparing for yet another eruption that brimmed beneath the surface. Though he was curious, he forced himself to look away from the Boston lady; he himself hated being the center of attention, and he could only imagine that feeling being amplified when one was emotional.

Muted gray eyes studied the Native American who asked the most obvious question, and held his own tongue. Nico knew of her; or at least, had an idea of who she was. Ryan had given them all a quick briefing over dinner last night, before all hell had broken loose on Ilvermony and Taylor was stuck cleaning up the mess. So he remained quiet, even as yet another woman questioned the Red Serpent's legitimacy.

He knew Ryan wasn't stupid. Nico wouldn't be here otherwise. And while he could understand her concerns, his faith and loyalty in his friend overruled any empathy he might have had for her. She'd indirectly insulted someone he thought highly of and while he'd never voice it, he couldn't say she was growing on him.

The giant spoke, and Nico instantly warmed up to him in contrast with the Van Helsing. He knew the feeling all too well, but at least he could easily identify the reason why he'd been invited. Without Ryan, he doubted his quiet life would have been interrupted. He could only imagine one's confusion and doubt when thrust into this room full of strangers, being assured you were destined for something great when reality spoke otherwise.

[bcolor=#908b9f]"They do it on purpose."[/bcolor] He said it quietly, audible only if they truly listened. [bcolor=#908b9f]"Silver Heart doesn't discriminate based on skill, or it would be all too easy to squirm your way into their exclusive group. They choose everyone, from all walks of life, so it would be that much harder to link them all together."[/bcolor]

Elle Joyner · Nov 16, 2016

no-lightbox

New York City, New York

Questions went round, as Frankie sank deeper into her seat, deeper into her internal reverie. So much of what had happened, she'd chalked down to bad luck on her part, but staring at the small circular pendant in her hand, it was impossible not to question if it wasn't, in fact, part of something more, something deeper. She'd gone to Jim because she'd been desperate for some measure of control, for something to throw her anger, her misery into, but it begged the question of whether it had been her choice or not.

Had this been Jim's plan the whole time? Or had he seen something in her that altered her course over time? Of course, it didn't matter what the answer was... she'd never hear it from the one person she desperately needed to hear it from. To know that he had been such a prevalent part of her life, but had never shared with her just how much a part… it was hard, pressing past the injury in that. He'd kept a secret from her for over ten years… and it had gotten him killed.

Knuckles tightening around the pendant, she glanced up again to find the conversation had taken an intriguing turn. They were right, the others, to question the situation. Most particularly, Jonathon, who seemed to mirror her own thoughts for a moment. Why were they there? What good would they be? She hadn't practiced magic on a day to day basis like most of these people… she'd, in fact, avoided it altogether. She was tough, and she had no qualms about throwing herself into the thick of a fight, but what good would she be up against the enemy they were facing… Magical terrorists. It almost seemed like a bad joke, except she'd seen what they could do, and she wasn't laughing.

The young Asian spoke again, and a brow quirked at his words as Frankie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "And you know this about a super-secret group… how, exactly?" Eyes twisting to the woman who had given her the necklace, she shrugged, "Sounds to me that at best, you got some loose lips on your ship. No wonder people are gettin' killed."

Frowning, she shook her head, "I'm with Van Helsing on this one… I need to see something more legit than a shiny necklace. All due respect, but I ain't about to take anyone's word for it..."

collab with @Fyrelily, @Effervescent, @allyall

rissa · Nov 22, 2016

THE SILVER HEART CIRCLE
CH. 1, SCENE 1.5: WHY YOU'VE BEEN SUMMONED

"Trust," Torin said gently, "Is a fickle thing and something that blossoms over time." She inclined her head slightly before continuing. "I don't expect many of you to trust or believe everything I say. I know I didn't when I was sitting where you are now… Yet that doesn't stop it from being the truth."

She turned to the Native-Maj, "You ask who I am," She shrugged her shoulders slightly, "My name is Torin Velle, graduated from Ilvermorny in ninety-four and former Foreign Affairs Chairwoman for MACUSA." Tor glanced back at Van Helsing. "You can confirm that with Harwin next time you're in the office."

Her gaze lingered on the woman as she digested her concerns. Tor, trying not to smile, remembered her own conclave and something whispered from her own mouth, oh so similar.

"We learn from our history; magic and no-maj alike. It's the only concrete way of knowing that we're not repeating the same old mistakes. But you're right, to an extent and yet, how do I convince you all to join us? There is no fame, if that's what you're after. There's little gold in the offer, if that's what you're here for. The risk… ah yes, there is plenty of risk. But I doubt that's what any of you seek.

"Each and every one of us - more than you might believe, risk our lives each and every day for one simple truth: what we do saves lives."

Tor listened to the next few remarks, her gut dropping and anger slicing through her resolve at Frankie's suggestion. Her hand flicked to her wand for the smallest of instances before she bit down on her self-control. What did she know of death and murder? Of finding comrades broken and mangled for simply being aware of the injustices around them. Of sacrifice for the so-called greater good.

She ignored the Boston native's comment and nodded towards Nico. "He's right, in essence, in how he describes us. We do choose from all walks of life, not only to derail our enemies, but because we need people from all walks of life." She turned to Jonathon, a giant of a man. "An apprentice wandmaker... How many witches and wizards do you know who are aware of the subtleties in wandlore? How many witches and wizards do you know that can distinguish a tree worthy of being made into a wand?

"We don't want the best and the brightest, they come packaged with the one thing we despise: attention. We want you, each of you, because of what we think you're capable of. And no, not all of us are meant to fight Jonathon, but we do more than just duel our enemies. We help where we can, protect and shelter those who can't protect themselves, and lend aid where it's needed. Even to No-Maj's, which so many of us come from."

Torin waited a moment before continuing, contemplating the conclave and wondering just how many would take up this offer. If Rhassa was here… things would be going much differently; he always knew what needed to be said to calm worries and ignite passion. He'd never lost a invitee… Tor felt as though she was about to lose all of them.

Another young woman, the last to have entered the room, broomstick tucked under her arm, stood up slightly before speaking. "The name's Tansy - Tansy Blackwood - though you probably already know that… Anyways, what'll we be doing? Flickin' through pages-" She pointed to the stack of files to the left of her. "Or actually doing somethin' useful?" Tansy looked up and over at Jonathon with a smirk. "Some of us are the fightin' type."

With a roll of her eyes, Tor nodded slightly. "Each of you will fulfil a role of your own choosing. None is more important than the others and we need more members for each. Most of you will inevitably chose field duty, but that isn't for everyone and Silver Heart is very much aware that sometimes duelers don't win the war..."

Glancing at the watch on her wrist, Tor stood up suddenly and spoke rather solemnly. "At this moment in time I don't expect you to trust me. I do however, expect you to absorb what I've said and formulate a decision based off the truths I've told you. It doesn't have to be right now, as I'm needed elsewhere, but I will need them soon. We have accommodations for those who need them; simply talk to Belle, the witch who guided you through the double doors and let her know you need a room."

She walked to the center of the room and glanced around at all the empty armchairs, wondering what on earth they'd succumb to if the Red Serpent or even MACUSA caught wind of what was coming…

"I expect to see those who wish to join, here, at nine fifteen tomorrow morning. Converse among yourselves or do as you wish." And then she walked out and back up the stairs to await the next conclave.

TANSY BLACKWOOD

Tansy glanced around the room, taking in everyone gathered sans one. Torin Velle had left, and with her departure left behind an uncertainty that was palpable. She shook off the nervous energy that surrounded her and stood up with a stretch. Tans eyed the stack of files she'd pointed to earlier and curiously walked over to them, her Falling Star still tucked under her arm. She picked them up hesitantly and glanced at the double doors before rifling through them. Everyone in the room had a file, some thicker than others, and with a shrug she began handing them out.

"We all got one," She said conversationally.

When she got to Ellie's file Tansy handed it over without making eye contact. A red flush crept up her neck and she made her way to the opposite side of the room rather quickly, wondering why the hell fate brought them back together.

"Well- I uh, so." Tansy cleared her throat. "Anybody thinkin' about joining up? She didn't really give us much to go on though, ya know? Still, if I can help then I will."

silver Hello, hello!! Welcome back to SHC - a quick thing I'd like to mention before going any further: HAPPY THANKSGIVING YALL. As the holidays grow ever near I'd like to of course give my thanks and let everyone know that real life comes first. Spend time with family and friends and know that the RP will be here after your bellies are stuffed full with hella good food.

Now! Feel free to have your characters interact with Tansy or leave the Main Office. If they choose to stay, or have nowhere else to go, have them ask Belle for a room and have your characters proceed to the fourth floor. Feel free to collab if you think your characters will have heavy interactions/dialogue. All characters must report back to the Main Office tomorrow morning for further instructions if they wish to join the Silver Heart Circle. My next post will begin the second scene and your characters inductions.

@Effervescent @Elle Joyner @CloudyBlueDay @monopoisoner @Folksy @Doctor Jax @Kathairein

Kathairein · Nov 23, 2016

"What do you expect to find, Matthew?"

His mother wasn't just curious. She was rarely so lazy-minded as to be simply… curious. That was a word which always conveyed several different meanings in the Adams' household. Matthew's gaze lifted from the workbench, although his hands continued their work. He'd de-porcupined a kneazle often enough to know how thwart their slippery attempts to escape and yank at the quills themselves. This particular culprit had attempted to steal the smooth, shiny river stones the mother porcupine was fond of using to surround her underground nest.

"It's not so much the findin' as what comes after, Ma. They sent that letter for a reason, though I can't say just what yet, but they sent it regardless. I'm…" The squint of his eyes betrayed the turmoil of his thoughts, mouth pinched into a thin line. His mother, idly inspecting various samples sent to her that morning, made a quiet sound. An indicator that she understood, although the words hadn't quite reached the right combination. Matthew gave her a soft smile and tutted at the squirrel-y creature squeaking at him. His father had heard just about the same so far and it didn't surprise Matthew that his parents seemed so ready to accept his decision.

He'd been troubled by things he couldn't change. Things he couldn't comprehend being real. Events which tossed a shadow over all he loved and cared for. He had thought focusing on his work would dissipate the uneasy feeling lodged in his chest. There were those that already thought he did enough by devoting his life to magical creatures and beasts like his father did. Even his mother felt as much, although there had always been an edge of expectation in her voice when she addressed him regarding his future plans.

The future was a blustery winter storm, laced with ice, coated with sleet and snow too deep to measure. Matthew's heart was chilled by the very word. Future…

"I can't un-see what I've seen. Or un-hear what I've heard. What I've felt with my hands. The taste and smell of death are the same thing… did you know? I didn't, even with what I am. But then I found out and I can't forget it and I recognize it everywhere… just out of sight."

A hand fell on his shoulder. His father, solemn, gave his back a light clap before he sat, wrestled the kneazle into submission and resumed removing stubborn needles. Matthew's hands sat limp for a moment, but tension shifted from his shoulders, down his arms, into the joints. Fists formed and the tension ran straight back, snapping across his face. "I don't know what their reason is, but I think I know what mine might be… If I'm wrong, doesn't mean I can't come back. Find a way on my own…"

"You're not alone, Matt."
"Like we'd leave you alone, ever."
"…I wish it wasn't so scary, but… I understand, Matthew."
"We all understand. It's all we see in the papers…"
"And work never stops with the news, sadly. I can't get one assignment done-"
"-shush, Toms… But honestly, Matt, you've got us if they don't get you… And all that."

Words fail to express what it means to have a family which not only cared, but willingly determined to care beyond all expectations. He didn't leave home with a heavy heart. The burden he bore was a shared one, but for the time being Matthew didn't mind so much to carry it alone. After all, he was related to enough stubborn, overprotective buffoons that he couldn't keep it to himself forever.

——————————————————

A dreary, anxious atmosphere draped the room like so many low hanging clouds might dash away sunlight. Tor — Torin Velle — had delivered a solid, logical response to the emotional and dubious maelstrom set before her. He admired her answers, general as they were. How could anyone expect her to give specifics just yet? They hadn't signed a single dotted line or sworn an oath or… whatever it was secret organizations did to finalize new recruits. Truth and trust were two very different beasts: he knew that to be a fact as well as he knew the color of the sky. Wrangle with one, he might come out with a better appreciation of it. Wrestle with the other and he could potentially have the world to gain… or lose.

He received his folder and thoughtfully held it a moment. Hefty enough, for a nobody from Montana. A faint grin spread across his face, fresh memories maintaining his calm even as he thumbed through the file. What it contained by surprised, irritated and amused him in parts. However, his attention was turned outward indirectly. In some way or another, he recognized a few of the other wizards and witches here. Those he didn't had already given him some impression of who and what they were, regardless of having a name or title to place. Matthew's stomach clenched when it came to the Boston witch, whose tragedy still hung over them. Her distrust was well merited, as were those of the Van Helsing and Native Maj. He had doubts as well, but he had learned long ago to trust what his senses and mind told him in chorus.

"I'm joining," Matthew announced, gentling the suddenness of his words with a firm, quiet tone. He resettled his coat on his lap, tapping his file against his thigh slowly. Aware that such a simple admittance might not go over well as things were presently, he turned his gaze on the latecomer. It'd been a good number of years since they'd last gone head to head on the Quidditch Pitch, but he remembered Tansy Blackwood. And her awful habit of sending a Bludger right at his head with incredible precision. He smiled, quick and familiar, in way of a greeting. It was strange to see faces here he'd once known as a boy, a teen, and some which he'd only glimpsed or caught staring back at him from a paper. "There's always time to doubt. We're here, all of us, because we either doubt what we know now… or want there to be fewer doubts in the future," Matthew continued, slow at first, but a somber conviction strengthen his voice.

He stood with little noise or awkwardness, gathering his coat and beaten leather bag. "My name's Matthew Adams... I would like to say I'm absolutely certain of what I'm doing next. Or what this invitation means, or that I know for a fact that this is what it seems. But since I can't, I will say this: there are those that have no idea what's out there. Some of us here may not have encountered tragedy…" His gaze swept briefly over Frankie, then moved on to the others. Sympathy, he knew, could be taken one way or the other. Her loss was stark and raw; his was worn and calloused, "Or deception… or seen the evils that hide out there. I have… In ways I never want to come across again."

He walked to the door, paused once again to gaze at the eyes embedded within them. Turning to the room, he gestured at the door behind him. "I trust myself to do the right thing, and that's enough for now. If this is the Silver Heart Circle, then like Tansy said… I'm glad I've got the chance to help if I can…"

With as many words as he'd just spoken, Matthew could only offer a small smile as he left and approached Belle at the desk once again.

Elle Joyner · Nov 23, 2016

no-lightbox

New York City, New York

She would have liked to say the decision was cut and dry - a simple hell no as she tromped out the door. Maybe it would have been justified. There was hardly must incentive... at least on the surface. She wasn't a do-gooder. She never had been. It wasn't that she didn't possess the capacity to care for others. Frankie had just always had the philosophy that keeping her nose where it belonged was the most effective way to keep out of trouble, and thus far in her life, it had served her well.

But while it wasn't necessarily beneficial for her to get involved, she couldn't ignore the pressing consideration that this might be her only opportunity to set right what had happened to Jim. After everything he'd done for her, she owed him that much... Maybe he had kept the truth from her, and she couldn't pretend that didn't grate... but in the end it was Jim, and short of mass genocide there was little he could do that could change what he meant to her. There was also the idea that he had recommended her for this little Girl Scout Troupe that played at the back of her mind. He wanted her to join... and for Jim, that wasn't something to overlook.

It didn't escape her attention that her questions were passed over, and really, she wasn't surprised. She'd been told a time or twenty that she could abrasive, and Torin Velle didn't seem the type to entertain that sort of reaction, whether it was justified or not. Still, by the time the woman excused herself, Frankie felt an irritable twitch forming behind her eye. She couldn't exactly see them becoming fast friends... Then again, stranger things had happened.

A few of the others spoke up - introduced themselves, but Frankie had already risen, and combing her fingers through her hair, she glanced around the room at the small ragtag bunch that had settled in. It wasn't exactly a dream team... but stranger things had happened.

"I dunno. Ain't exactly a decision you flip a coin over. Me? I need a drink... There's a pub five minutes up the road. Anyone in?"

@rissa, @allyall

Effervescent · Nov 28, 2016

As the woman introduced herself as Torin Velle, Ava found her hand slipping into her jacket pocket to retrieve her mobile phone. It nestled within her palm as she turned on the device and placed it between her two hands. With a tap on her screen she quickly snagged a picture of the brunette as she continued her dissertation. Ava's thumbs mutedly fired off a text at lightning speed, the photo sent with the message to a number without a name. And while she waited for a response, she returned her attention back to the room.

Confirming with Harwin wasn't an option right now and Ava lacked the patience to confirm this woman's identity in that span. After all, the offer was right now. But for the experienced auror, Torin's words held no weight and carried no sway. This woman was still a complete stranger. Ava had dealt plenty with deceit in such a fashion that she learned quickly.

Her phone buzzed twice in her hand to signal an incoming text. Ava brought the screen up to view and read the short message over thoughtfully before returning the no-maj device to her jacket pocket. Despite the visible relaxation of her shoulders, she watched the responses with a slight downturn of her lips. The one introduced as Matthew attempted a rousing speech that only curdled in her stomach. She could mark off a list of adjectives befitting the green, but two stood out to her: the wand maker and the fighter.

Frankie and Johnathon were inquisitive and contemplative. They didn't seem to jump on bandwagons before stepping back to consider. And as Frankie suggested a bar run, Ava stepped up with a small smile. "I'm up for it," she said plainly. "Besides, it's about time I do something fun for once."

Turning to the rather tall, bearded wand maker, she nodded towards the door. "What do you say? Care to share a few drinks?"

@Elle Joyner @Doctor Jax

CloudyBlueDay · Dec 10, 2016

WE MEET AGAIN
a collab between @rissa and @CloudyBlueDay

Eleanor watched it play out. Let it play out. As the discussion went on she slowly calmed, sitting back down on the couch and waiting until things slowed to a comfortable stop. The speech didn't change a whole lot of her opinion, because a feeling in Eleanor's gut had already risen, one that told her this was.. this was right. If Tansy was here then it had to be incredibly right or horribly wrong and either was, she was gonna stick around. Eleanor was desperate to make a change, in the Red Serpent's reign and in her own, sad little life.

Eleanor waited patiently for Tansy to make her way around the room with those files. And when Tansy handed Ellie the file, she expected nothing less then a downward glance and a quick pass-off, which was exactly what she got. Except when Tansy presented her with the file, Ellie reached out perhaps a little further than she meant too, and touched Tansy's hand.

It felt foreign and familiar all at once. Ellie didn't even look up, and Tansy pulled away to escape to the other side of the room. The damn girl even smelled the same, of spices and honeysuckle and broomsticks and home. And it made Eleanor mad, that Tansy was still so perfectly, beautifully the same person she'd left all those years ago.

"Well- I uh, so." Tansy cleared her throat. "Anybody thinkin' about joining up? She didn't really give us much to go on though, ya know? Still, if I can help then I will."

Eleanor didn't waste a second crossing the room and moving right up to the black-haired girl without a sound, up until she planted her feet right in front of her. "Tansy," Ellie said quietly, touching the girl's wrist, looking like she meant to grip it but only grazing it instead.

Besides her, Tansy recognized, at least from school, a few of the witches and wizards gathered. Though she'd heard of Van Helsing, she'd never actually met her and the new silver pendant owner, Frankie Somethin'-- Tansy definitely recognized her as an upperclassmen from school. Listening intently as Mat spoke and retreated through the double doors, she lost herself in a memory that she still savored. A perfectly aimed bludger, straight to the former Thunderbird beater's head.

Tansy nodded her head at Frankie's suggestion. "My mind's already made, but I ain't never turned down an offer for whiskey. I'm down."

And as she made to stand, she made her way towards her. Tansy sat back in her chair, moving her broomstick across her lap, leaning as far back as she could. Eying the double doors to her right, she ignored Ellie's eye for as long as she could. Recklessness she could handle. Possibilities of death she could deal with. But that scar on Ellie's shoulder? That wasn't something she could manage. At least not without a few shots.

Then Tansy felt a light pressure on her wrist and she glanced up, her vision swimming with the Ellie of her past and this new Ellie of the present. Without thinking she yanked her wrist away as Ellie said her name.

"Y-yeah?" Tansy said distracted, her eyes seeking the door and the promise of liquid courage, of the mind numbing liquor she was apt to drink whenever her past reared it's ugly head.

The sliver of confidence Eleanor had held for about three full seconds vanished. She could see Tansy shrivel into herself with every step closer Eleanor took, and it horrified her that she had that effect on such a bright young woman. To make her wither.

Eleanor stepped back, gaze flitting around nebulously. A moment ago she'd been intent on confronting her fears, which meant confronting Tansy. Now she would rather crawl back to the corner and hide.

"I.." Another step back. "..meant to say.. h-hello."

"Um. Hey Ellie."

Tansy rolled her shoulders and glanced up at her former best friend. How long had it been since they saw each other? How long had it been since Tansy caused that scar?

She stood, sweeping the file under her left arm and grabbing her broomstick in her right in one quick movement.

"Let's uh- get a drink?" Tansy asked, nodding towards Van Helsing and the black haired witch who originally offered. "Wanna come with us?"

Eleanor's eyes gazed at Tansy searchingly, but for what neither of them knew. Eleanor could only believe Tansy would invite her to such a thing if there was some promise of escape, and Eleanor knew that it meant liquor. But she would do anything to sit close to Tansy again, and maybe if she went along there would be a chance Eleanor could rekindle their friendship. Somehow. Absentmindedly brushing her fingers over the tough skin, Eleanor looked off to the side, and gen brushed a loose hair that fell from her ponytail behind her ear.

"..sure." Was all Eleanor could end up mustering.

"Let's go then," Tansy said quickly, her eyes roaming across the room. "Hey Frankie, you know the way there?"

She walked over the to double doors, broomstick and file still in tow. Gingerly, she leaned her broomstick against one of the chairs and then glared across the room, as if daring anyone to touch her beloved.

"Well?"

Eleanor blinked, and then gave a quick nod, quickening her pace to match Tansy's and following her out.

Doctor Jax · Dec 10, 2016

[bg=black] JONATHON RIES

Jon nodded his head slowly as the woman -- Torin Velle, was apparently her name -- explained why they'd put together such a hodge-podge group together. Well, he couldn't very well refute that kind of logic. Yes, he knew about trees. Lots and lots of trees. Hours of standing out in copses, knocking on trees with his ear to them, listening to... something or other. Hours and hours of putting wandcores in and having them violently explode or transmogrify the furniture. It was a thankless job, though not a boring one.

Besides he guessed that if you wanted to make a well-rounded group of headhunters, you might as well get anyone you can find. After all, what sort of crackpots would join up with a clandestine group of vigilante witches and wizards?

Well, this one, apparently.

Another girl, one with a broomstick under her arm, asked about what they would be doing, and she made a sharp quip that some of them were fighters, and Jonathon gave a sheepish smile and a massive shrug of his shoulders. His wife always told him he had more love than fight in him, and he was only too eager to agree with her. He couldn't cast a Disarming Spell to save his life, literally. Now, casting a Watering spell... Whatever the case, they all apparently were going to get their own role, and if they were willing to sign up, they just had to return here at 9 in the morning. At least they chose a respectable time. Glad I don't have to go to anymore 6 AM meetings, Jonathon thought with a mental sigh.

With that, the girl -- Tansy? -- asked whether or not they were up to joining, and a kid in one of the chairs quickly said that he was in. He couldn't have been much younger than the other teeny-boppers in the room, and Jonathon found his conviction quite admirable. He wished he could make decisions quite so quickly and with that much certainty. No, he was the kind of person to sit on a decision for days... But it seemed that wasn't an option in this case. Whatever the matter, the boy walked out.

It looked that the Bostonian was a little more hesitant, and he couldn't blame her. For the youngsters, this may seem like a real adventure, but Jon had a real business back home with a real wife and a real, aging wizard of a father who'd tear every beard hair off his face one at a time if he found out. There was a lot at stake for him to go gallivanting about, doing things with... who knew what, traipsing over New York or San Francisco or where ever it was these people wanted them to work. This was the first time he'd set foot off his parent's land in probably years, so it was definitely a lot to take in.

The Van Helsing woman -- a real one, wow! -- agreed with the Bostonian that a drink was in order, and she asked him if he'd like to accompany. He gave a slightly lopsided grin and he joked, "Well, I mean, if I can't really turn down two nice ladies offering a bar crawl. Just don't tell my wife. She gets awful jealous.... cuz I hear they have awesome beer here and she's a connoisseur."

He looked over to the others in the room and said, "Anyone else up for a drink? Maybe a beer might help us make up our minds."

Or ruin our judgment.

@Effervescent @Elle Joyner[/bg]

Red Thunder · Dec 26, 2016

Idle Hands
A collab with @rissa

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away...

Shadow apparated back to the field he'd left Jay three hours prior, and stood in the darkness contemplating his discovery. It was the first time they'd managed to acquire a Red Serpent pendant and it left the Senior Scout with more questions then when he began. The man ran a hand through his dark hair, shaking away the thoughts that throbbed in tandem with his headache.

Walking towards headquarters, Shade's thoughts drifted to Jay. He'd proven himself worthy, as usual, and he couldn't help but feel a smidgen of pride. Though the mission certainly wasn't traditional, In the morning he'd send a post to Jonkers, asking him to clear shop for an upcoming afternoon. He smirked, wondering what the kid thought of AJ, and his little bedside present.

Gerald glared his way as he entered the double doors but otherwise remained silent. Shade smiled, he could only imagine the scene Jay had caused bringing the would-be-terrorist to headquarters without any warning.

"You havin' good evenin' Gerald?" He asked sarcastically.

"Bah!" The old man said darkly. He flicked The Maj Report straight and hid behind the newspaper he was so partial to.

With another smile Shadow walked up the grand staircase until he reached the third floor. He walked to the room he'd assigned Jay and rapped three times.

Idle hands are the devil's workshop. Ironic, that saying. It meant that idle hands got into trouble. But if hands are getting into trouble, they aren't being very idle, now are they?

Jay's hands had not been idle. The urge to investigate the backpack was incredibly strong; merely having it in the same room was more than he could bear. But god knew what kind of insanity was held, quite possibly restrained, within. So instead he had chucked it into the bathroom (after making use of it himself first), and closed the door firmly. No, something else needed to occupy his mind and hands. Back to the wash closet, Jay cast his eye about the small apartment, arms crossed in contemplation. Surely, surely something about the place could occupy his mind. The desk, perhaps. Or the books in the nearby bookcase. No, scratch the books; he didn't want to have to fumble his way through his own partial illiteracy. The desk it was.

Jay strolled over in characteristically nonchalant way, as if always desperate to never telegraph his intentions, despite the distinct lack of audience. It was an older style writing desk, the roll back cover the hide its contents designed to keep a potentially messy work space out of sight of any visitors. Reaching out a hand, he gave the lid a tug. It rolled up smoothly, as if it meticulously cared for. Predictably, the work station was immaculate. The drawers sadly revealed little more of interest: merely a stack of parchment, some quills, and a bottle of a deep jet black ink. And...Floo powder, of all things. The bored expression on his face gradually improved to a smile as he weighed it in his hand. His eyes slowly shifted, considering the bedroom. Or rather, what lay within...

Five minutes later, the Floo powder jar was discarded, pushed discreetly under the bed, stuffed with three of the five quills, each covered in a mixture of the Floo powder and the ink. The dark aviators still sat on the bedside table, only now they lay upside down, allowing time for the mixture spread onto the nose and ear pieces to dry. Jay stood in the doorway, grinning as he considered his work. He'd taken momentary pleasure, far more than maybe he'd like to admit, at the mental picture of Shadow pushing open the apartment door, only to have the open ink bottle fall onto his head. But no, better to not give away his game.

He checked his phone. Even with the short nap he'd gotten and the prank he was watching, only two hours had passed. Jay grimaced; even for Shadow's awful sense of punctuality, this was unbearable. And he could stand it no longer. Waiting another ten minutes for the mixture to dry, the thief replaced everything where it was as best he could, set the aviators back upright, and cracked open the apartment door. Slowly he peeked out, but the hall was devoid of personnel. Excellent; he was damn curious about this place, and Shadow probably would rush him off to the next thing without showing him around. Closing the door silently behind him but leaving it unlocked (he didn't have a key, after all), Jay turned around, shoved his hands in his pants pockets, and strolled off down the hall with apparently as little concern as he might have on a walk through the park.

So when, some forty-five minutes later, Shadow knocked on Jay's apartment door, not a soul answered it.

With another knock that went unanswered, Shadow drifted off down the hallway, wondering where his protege could have went. Hopefully -hopefully- he'd been smart enough to stay away from the fifth floor, getting on AJ's bad side was not something the young wizard was ready for. Shadow sighed, shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way up to the fourth floor. All was quiet during his fifteen minute search of the magically enlarged building, and finding nothing, Shadow let out a sigh and made his way back down the grand staircase. He stopped on the second floor, his gut whispering, and walked down the long hallway eyes peeled for Jay.

This door was a bit more stubborn than the others.

When Jay had left his room, he'd taken a few moments to explore the floor he was on. But that feeling, that itch that he'd found something, just wasn't there; the third floor was simply uninteresting, and despite the untold things he might learn from delving into people's rooms and rifling through their belongings, it strangely held no interest to him. Instead he had found himself at the staircase, pondering which way seemed more interesting.

Up? Up meant rising to the occasion, striving forward, pushing onwards, becoming a stand up person. His mouth twisted in consideration, Jay considered it. Up also meant toward his prisoner and whatever god awful things they were doing to the fellow. Scoffing, he glanced the other way. Down? Well, down always meant a sinking feeling, a place of retreat, a haven for cowards, a dirty pit where thieves and lowlifes congregated. He smiled; his kind of place. Down it was then.

But Gerald had left a foul taste in his mouth, and the young man had no desire to run into him again. So he'd taken a detour at the second floor. Immediately the acrid smell of chemicals and concoctions had filled his nostrils, and his nose wrinkled. Ah: there was an ingredient closet just outside the stairway, as if to provide whatever components were necessary to those who wished to work. So then: this floor was a workshop of some kind.

The first six doors had given little resistance and less reward, each opening with a simply "Alohomora!" whispered from Jay. But they were only brewing rooms, apparently used by Majs of immaculate cleanliness. Only in one room had anything mildly interesting appeared, but the side eyed glance the large toad had given him was hardly worth investigating further.

"Investigating." I sound like a damn cop. Well, Lucky Number Seven, I guess.

So here he was, arms crossed as he considered this seventh door. It looked exactly like all the others, yet it was warded against any opening spells he knew. It seemed like whomever stored things behind this door felt particularly keen on keeping out prying eyes. Or grabbing hands.

The idea burrowed into his mind, and it pulled up the corners of his mouth into a sly smile. It might be warded against magic, but what about more conventional tools? Reaching into his pocket, Jay pulled out a small contraption very similar to a Swiss Army knife. It was an entry kit that he'd gotten ahold of some years back, and it had been utterly useful to him in the past. He pulled out the necessary prods and needles, crouched on one knee to better see what he was doing, and gently placed the bits of metal into the lock.

The thing about spells is they can misfire, glancing off surfaces and striking places they aren't meant to. Things are hit by spells accidentally all the time, quite likely including door locks. But it isn't often, in fact, that bits of metal are shoved into locks without it being intentional. So when the klaxon began blaring loudly, Jay had little reason to believe anyone else had caused it.

His instincts were right. As usual. As the caterwauling charm blared through the hallway, Shadow suppressed a grin, he should have known. Still, if this were to be his home for now on, the kid needed to respect certain boundaries. If not for Shadow, then for paranoid Rhassa who doesn't take kindly to snoopy people.

He turned down another hallway, ears guiding him to the terrible racket. Up ahead, further down the corridor was Jay, still crouched in front of the door he'd tried breaking into. What was he goin' to do with the kid? He shook his head, grabbed his wand and waved it towards the door. The charm, though effective, was annoying as hell once tripped.

"You're never goin' to learn to keep your hands where they belong are ya Jay?"

Jay fairly leaped backwards, separating himself from the scene of his attempted intrusion. The look of confusion on his face at the sudden stop of the klaxon was swept away by a mix of shame at being found out and frustration that his mentor interrupted him. His wand was clutched in his right hand, the lockpicking kit in the other, though he nearly dropped them as he threw his hands back to catch himself. Scrambling, the young man picked himself up, shoving as he did his tools and wand into his pockets. He coughed, trying to regain his composure.

"You wouldn't have grabbed me off the streets if I had. And let's face it, you've not done a great job at showing me what that's like anyway."

With a regret filled glance at the unopened door, Jay drifted toward Shadow.

"The kid had something in that backpack. You ducked out, so I couldn't talk it over with you. It's still in my room. Dunno what it is, though; I didn't wanna get cursed opening it up to look."

Nodding his head, Shadow couldn't help but feel grateful that the kid hadn't opened the backpack. He'd bet that there wasn't much of anything within, but it never hurt to err on the side of caution. Still, all this sneaking around was one thing that he needed to break, at least while within headquarters -- which was now the kids home. Shadow looked at Jay quizzically before turning to the room, and with a slight smirk, spoke to the door.

"Open." And so it did.

Within the room was a stockpile of odds and ends; tables and chairs, old broomsticks and rugs, decaying mattresses and a pile of moldy blankets near a broken window in the far corner of the room. He stepped to the side to allow Jay a glimpse of the contents within the room before shutting the door.

"Come, let's find out what's in that bag." Shadow said, turning around and walking back to the staircase. When Jay caught up to him, he glanced down at him and spoke softly. "You're right when you say I haven't been that good of an influence on you, but Jay -- this is now your home, my home, and sneaking around and breaking into rooms isn't the sorta thing you should be doing here. If you're curious, ask. I won't ever ask you to give up your ways, but I will ask you keep them hands of yours on lockdown, at least within the headquarters."

Silent for a moment, he spoke again, this time with his usual voice. "Oh, and I want you up and dressed by ten tomorrow... I'm takin' you to get a real wand."

Elle Joyner · Jan 8, 2017

no-lightbox

New York City, New York

"Yeah. I know the way. Ain't far, either." Frankie might not have been the wizarding world's envy, but if there was one thing she was familiar with, it was how to find a half decent pub in just about every major city on the planet. It was a distraction, she knew, and not one that was ultimately going to do much good as far as decision making went, but it was better than sitting around in that room, figuring out a way to make up her mind. The fact was, the woman had presented some good points, even if Frankie thought it was all a little crazy that she'd get roped into something like this, and if Jim had, in fact been the one to put her name forward than she owed it to her mentor to at least consider the offer.

But not without at least one shot of damn good whiskey.

It was a quick walk from the unusual meeting space to the small Irish pub and between the briskness of the fresh air and feeling a little like a mother duck with the strange crew following behind her, she felt somewhat less emotionally compromised by the time they arrived. It wasn't busy, as early in the afternoon as it was, and gesturing to a small round table towards the back of the room, Frankie found herself a seat and settled into it, flagging over a waitress. She ordered a double, on the rocks, then waited for the others before telling the woman to start a tab.

"...Hell of a thing, all this secret club business." She muttered quietly, after their orders had been placed and the waitress wandered off. Absently, she glanced up, keen eyes taking in the others around the table, "Guess if we're gonna be secret agents, together, we should maybe get to know each other a bit? I'm Frankie… Frankie Ramone. I'm from Boston, in case you couldn't tell. Been a hot minute or two since I had anything to do with all this… other-world stuff, but I guess Jim saw somethin' in me, or he wouldn't've given them my name. "

The bar they sat in was almost homey. It brought to mind some of the nights Jon spent sitting with old pals back in the early 2000s, when he was first working the warehouses. It had been a more carefree time then, with the whole world still buzzing a little bit over the death and destruction of Voldemort.

But this was good, too. After all, he was among friends, wasn't he?

"Nice to meet you, Frankie. Welcome back to the fold," Jon said with a smile. "I'm Jonathon Ries. I'm about... as lost as you are. I've spent a lot of time on my Dad's farm, and the place is a town all on its own. You at least had someone to vouch. I have no clue how they found me."

He thankfully accepted the microbrew set before him by a waitress and he gave a winning smile, looking for all the world like a bear sitting at a table.

Ava slipped into a chair around the table, hands still shoved in the pockets of her jacket as she maneuvered stiffly. Her arm gently squeezed her purse hanging from her shoulder to nonchalantly confirm her wallet was still on her. The bulk of it pressed through the fabric, and she ordered her drink. A small smile graced her lips only briefly as she watched Jonathon gleefully accept his drink. He sounded and seemed like he came from a delightfully simple life, and one she had often daydreamed about.

"I'm Ava," she announced as she picked up her own glass of rum and coke. Fizzy drinks always felt the best to her, and in her own muted delight, she took a sip before continuing. "Secret clubs seem to be the latest fashion. But there should be an orientation of sorts to get us all better acclimated to what exactly we'll be tasked to do."

She eyed the giant looking bearded man across from her and gave a slight smirk. "You'd be surprised what one can track down," Ava said. "Even a small town farm boy isn't completely off the grid."

Jonathon was taken aback by this piece of knowledge. Without an internet connection (shocking, he knew!), without stepping foot of his parents' tiny corner of the world, without interacting with another soul besides his own brood, he had thought that he at least would be safe from prying eyes. Alas, there was the simple fact that he did order some custom woods from certain wandmakers....

"Really! I hadn't ever considered that, honestly. You get to bein' by yourself so much, you kind of think no one notices you, or tries to anyways. Then again, is there a way to stay 'off the grid'?" Jonathon pondered, taking a swig of his bottle. "I mean, is it possible to track owls? I guess yeah, you probably can..."

Eleanor really did not belong in a seat this table. They were all charismatic, talkative witches and wizards, people who had come to the bar to laugh about the stupidity of the very thing they were brought together for and to get drunk while doing so. After she had ordered her Old Fashioned, Eleanor sat back to listen to them speak. She could feel their personalities just from a sentence. Eleanor liked to get to know her surroundings before making a statement.

Frankie's thick Boston accent and her laid-back attitude betrayed her outburst moments ago. The light in Jonathon's seemed akin to a child, and his large stature didn't display what she could tell was an innocence within him. And Ava, the Van Helsing... a bitter and worrisome wistfulness underneath the casual smirk.

Jonathon rambled on about Ava's comment of tracking. He seemed strangely excitable by just the simplest of things, and Eleanor watched him with an entertained and intrigued look on her face, sipping her drink with a smile.

"When I was at Ilvermorny I did a lot of tracking," Eleanor said softly. "Not anything professional, of course. For the occasional outing in the woods or something of the sort. All for adventure, you know." She glanced at Tansy momentarily.

"Eleanor," The woman murmured, a form of introduction, holding her chin in her hand, covering part of her scar. "I'm sure you could track anything if you put your mind to it, Jonathon."

Tansy took a seat with the chair turned backwards, the entrance to the pub in her line of sight, and gave the waitress her order of whiskey and coke. She chuckled at Frankie's "other-world" comment, listened to Van Helsing introduce herself, and smirked at Ava's use of "farm boy." When Ellie spoke, Tansy couldn't help but cringe away; it'd been so long since she'd heard that voice, the soft melody that had once banished her anxieties, calmed her rages, and inspired her to be a better version of herself.

Once her liquid courage was in front of her, Tansy took a large gulp, finishing half the glass before she set it back down onto the table. She loved the telltale burn, it gave her courage, something she desperately needed at the moment. With another sip, Tansy cleared her throat and spoke.

"I've heard a lotta' things about Silver Heart… but I doubt half of it's true. Anyways, I'm Tansy, call me Tans -or not- 'sup to you I suppose." She rolled her shoulders and took another sip, finishing her first drink. "Not much of anything anymore - I make a livin' scouring the States for, well, lost treasure. Ava's right ya know, Ellie too-- anyone and anything can be found with enough hard work and dedication."

She shrugged her shoulders, eyed the group before her and waved the waitress over for another drink. "Anyone need a refill?"

It was going to be a problem. Frankie could tell. She liked these people, almost immediately, and that never bode well. Van Helsing was decidedly sharp, but not nearly so frosty as she'd seemed back at the unusual meeting, and Jonathon had an old world charm that most people overlooked these days. The wallflower was painfully bashful, but there was something there under the surface that suggested more than met the eye, and the Broom tauting latecomer carried herself with a refreshing air of confidence. These were people that Frankie could actually stand to get to know, and it had been a long while since she'd come up against that.

"Hell..." She muttered, downing her drink, before sliding the glass to Tansy, "We ain't exactly any of us magical spy material, but I guess they know what they're lookin' for. I ain't exactly convinced on their little club, just yet, but I could think of plenty of worse people to be teamed up with. And in my book, maybe that's good enough for a reason..." When her glass returned to her, refilled, Frankie held it aloft, the corner of her lip twitching up into a smirk, "Dunno what it'll bring, and it's sure to be a hell of a wicked ride, but damn... let's be spies."

collab with just... friggin' everyone, ever

Effervescent · Jan 8, 2017

a collab with @rissa @Doctor Jax @CloudyBlueDay @Elle Joyner

Ava tipped her glass to her lips and took a quick sip of her drink as she listened, eyes roving to each as they spoke their minds. She had merely laughed off Jonathon's passing thoughts with an airy huff before occupying her lips with the brim of her tumbler to allow others to speak or segue out of the topic. She knew how to go off the grid. She had to do it once for nearly a year, though it did help that she had MACUSA to aid her. Swallowing the smooth alcohol, she held the glass out to the waitress for another refill and waited for her departure before adding to the conversation.

"It's not as glamorous as you'd think," Ava said. "And if we can track them, they can track us. Once you get on their radar, you've got to consider what that entails. Your family, friends, lovers, whatever. Joining something like what we've been offered isn't just about ourselves. It's not just our lives on the line if you accept. But I know no one will mess with my family. No one with half a brain anyway. Can you say that about your own?"

The mention of the ramifications of "becoming spies", as the fiery Frankie had so blithely put it, fell heavily on Jon's head. He fiddled with his beer bottle, ripping off the label in thought, and remembering Tansy's mention of a refill, he said, "Yeah, I'll take just one more, if you don't mind, and then I'll be done."

Going back to his thoughts, the big man leaned back and cocked his head to the side, tapping his nail against the glass of the beer bottle. It was an IPA, a microbrew from a local homestay, and it was a good one, too. It brought to mind the butterbeer his family made on their farm, a recipe passed down through generations of Reises, all the way from their ancestors who'd fled Poland and picked up the recipe from the Scottish on their flight.

Though he thought of home, he also thought of its insularity.

"Do you think these people could protect our families? Is that part of the bargain?" Jon wondered seriously. He shrugged with his hands up, inclining his head while holding the beer bottle between thumb and forefinger daintily. "Not saying I'm joining up. Just a question. My family's... well, defensive is generous."

It wasn't irrational, Van Helsing's comments about family, but all things considered there were plenty of people within clandestine organizations all over the globe that managed to keep their families perfectly safe, and even unaware.

"Hell... I don't see my family enough these days for anyone to make the connection. It's a fair point though, and maybe one worth askin' the powers that be..."

"I would hope that it wouldn't even come to having to protect families." Eleanor said with a sigh, waving away the waitress, uninterested in a refill despite everyone else going for another. "I'm muggle-born. I'm not sure if they would even dare to try with my own family." She shrugged. "I would think that if you planned to join, though, they would expect you distance yourself from the family quite a bit. Perhaps it's more your duty to keep them safe than theirs."

She looked back up at Jonathon, having kept her gaze down the entire time she spoke. He did seem to be a family oriented type. Eleanor hoped he did not take her words to heart. "I'm not on very good terms with my family. I suppose I'm not the best person to ask."

Ava offered a shrug of her shoulders as she took a sip of her drink. They were green, and presenting logic wasn't doing so well. If they accepted, they'd find out well enough the dangers on not only themselves but to others around them. She seemed a bit lost in the notion for a moment, the glass slowly parting from her lips as the ice clinked against each other like chimes.

"The thing is," she began, "whether you believe it or not, they're at risk with what we'll be up against. You always have to consider that. Always. That's what makes you do your job the best you can, not just for yourself and for your own family, but for the people you work with and their own. It's never just about you. You've got to think about that."

She looked at everyone, eyes scanning through their small group in a local bar. Though her words were serious and a bit grim, she offered them a small smile. They knew she was a Van Helsing, and could likely derive what she's done through that name alone, but none knew her as an auror. "They'll do all they can, I'm sure, to make sure our families are kept out of our business. I looked up that woman that spoke to us back there and couldn't tie her to the Circle with any solid evidence. And that's how it should be. So it's up to us to insure the rest and all should be well."

"You were a cheerleader at some point, weren't you?" With a coy smirk, Frankie took a draw from her glass, but as she set down the tumbler, her expression falling serious.

"Ava's right, though. Fact is, we're all sitting here because whether we wanna admit it or not, we're considering this job... and that don't come without some wicked difficult backlash. Me? After Ilvermony, I got complacent as hell... Figured the world was safe, just cause the danger didn't hit home. Then Jim died, and it wasn't so easy to ignore the mess, anymore. Can't just assume cause we ain't close, my family is safe. But maybe that's enough of a reason to sign on... Maybe it's not figurin' everyone is safe... maybe it's makin' damn sure they are?"

Tansy nodded her head throughout Ava's speech, agreeing with her train of thought. She was right, though something nagged at her: how had she managed to check on Torin Velle so quickly? Suspicion lingered for moment, until her gaze sought that of Ellie. In her mind's eye she replayed her words: 'I'm not on very good terms with my family.' Tansy shook her head, no, Ellie had never been on good terms with her simple-minded, no-maj folks.

She listened as Frankie coughed out a joke, one that was lost on her, before spilling out her point of view.

"Ava's right, besides, it's our duty to take care of our families, in my opinion… Yet, I can't help but think that they'll provide us with some form of protection. This uh, this don't exactly look like the type of group that splits up in five years. I bet members are... Well, maybe not lifelong, but surely in it for the long haul. I suppose that's another angle to dissect before joinin'."

She took another long pull from her drink, emptying half the glass. The burn was appreciated; it dulled the weight of the day's anxiety and not to mention the surprise of seeing Ellie after all these years.

"Maybe," Ava added with a shrug as she sat back in her seat. "I mean if they are in it for the long haul it suggests loyalty and trust. But we would need to go poking around at people already in the Circle. Which we don't really have that luxury before we have to commit. I'm personally signing up, though. I get paid enough to have my hobbies anyway."

Jonathon fiddled with his second beer, turning over Ava's throw-in for the group.

"You know, I'm in, too. It seems like they're people willing to help everyone out, if that lady's speech says anything," Jon said with a winning smile towards the group of ladies. "I mean -- I've got no illusions that it'd probably be dangerous, and going toe-to-toe with a renegade group of terrorists is... well, ludicrous... but it's better than sitting and hiding out in Nebraska."

Tansy chuckled at Jonathon's words -and his big bear smile- and agreed with him. "It's settled then, huh? Guess I'm not the only crazy one. Haha, well, at least Silver Heart has new blood."

rissa · Jan 23, 2017

THE SILVER HEART CIRCLE
CH. 1, SCENE 2: IT HAS BEGUN

Headquarters was actually an estate, spread across thousands of acres of old, forgotten farmlands. Every inch, from the seven mile long road off the highway, to the depilated gardens behind the manor, were spelled unplottable and with anti-no-maj and protection charms. The manor itself was large, too large in fact, for the dwindling members of Silver Heart and poor Gerald was having a hard time with the upkeep. Though still grand in appearance, ivy had crawled up the southern walls and had slowly spread across the manor and the front lawn grew inches by the day.

It was midmorning and it had been exactly a week since Torrin Velle's second meeting with the new recruits and she couldn't help but wonder how many would actually heed the call. "The Call" was nothing more than a message, cleverly placed within the swirling patterns of the pendant each recruit received the last time they'd all seen each other. She had told them, specifically, to make sure they kept the pendant on them at all times. Torrin had also told them that each pendant was spelled like that of a snitch: they had flesh memories and would only react to the flesh of those who'd first touched them. She'd been extra careful that morning; wearing two pairs of dragonhide gloves as she reached into the drawstring pouch to carefully hand one to each new recruit.

Torrin Velle now waited in the rotunda, just off the main hall, resting in her favorite armchair. She checked the watch at her wrist, an old fashioned one that had thirteen hands all pointing in opposite directions. It was difficult, to be patient… even appearing patient was a hard task she'd finally managed a few years back. Yet that rock steadiness came from the one person who made her see the steadiness in herself... And that man, Jim, was gone.

The first one to arrive was surprisingly, the latecomer from the first meeting. Jessamine's "little bird", the adventurer, and one part of an inseparable duo. Thrown over one shoulder was a broomstick, top of line Falling Star it seemed and over the other shoulder was a large leather bag that landed with a deceptively loud thud when she dropped it on hardwood floor. The young woman didn't say a word, she simply took a seat and took turns staring at her and the large bay window that overlooked the front lawn.

She waited anxiously for the rest of them to arrive, and arrive they did. Slowly at first, and then all at once. Torrin Velle was there to greet them this time, sitting comfortably in the rotunda that looked as though it could seat hundreds. "Take a seat," said Torrin Velle, her eyes roaming over the faces of those gathered. "I have someone important for you all to meet."

Just as she said it, a tall man, Native in appearance walked into the rotunda through a door off the back. There were two others behind him; one she recognized as Shadow, former MACUSA Auror, and the other was a lanky kid no older than most of those gathered. Though she'd never met him before, Torrin was well aware of Shadow's little progeny. Standing, she cleared her throat and waved her arm toward the newcomers.

"This is Rhassa Delacove, the ringleader if you will, as well as Shadow and… Jay." said Torrin, taking her seat as Rhassa sauntered his way to the middle of the rotunda, memorizing each face as he looked at each in turn.

"I'd say this is a pretty good turnout, small but potent." He glanced back at Tor with a proud, congratulatory smile. "First things first -- I know your names and now your faces, but what I've yet to see is how you react. The next twelve weeks you will all be paired into groups wherein you'll train and learn to conduct yourselfs as members of this elusive Society. But that's tomorrow and today is today. Today, we'll be playing a bastardized version of the no-maj game capture the flag. The goal is simple: Get the other's team flag before they get yours. Magic is allowed and encouraged… this is your first test.

"Torrin will choose team leaders and from there, we'll make our way outside, yeah?"

@Red Thunder @Elle Joyner @Effervescent @CloudyBlueDay @Doctor Jax @monopoisoner @devil's 4DV0C473 @Kathairein

Red Thunder · Jan 28, 2017

Jay Lee

-SHC headquarters-

His new wand sat comfortingly, if uncomfortably, in his back pocket. A beautiful thing, inlaid with mother of pearl and 13 inches of Pine and Wampus hair core, it was significantly longer than his last, but despite its newness, the bit of practice Jay had gotten with it before Shadow had drug him to this asinine meeting was promising.

The meeting. Barely avoiding rolling his eyes into the back of his head, the thief stared around at those gathered there. It was an odd mixture of apparently every kind of person, from every walk of life. A quick glanced showed no one that he knew, not even the oddly mysterious woman from before. Even Delacove was only just introduced to the young man perhaps twenty minutes prior to their melodramatic little entrance.

Jay felt awkward, now hat he considered it. Apart from the much larger group of people than he normally felt comfortable with, he felt like he was being out on display, examined. Heaven help those gathered if he was being shown as an example; weird though they all were, there was almost certainly better trained Majs in the crowd, if in fact not more experienced.

His cheek twitched suddenly: capture the flag? Really? And magic was allowed. Did that mean ... other means were also okay? Because he wasn't about to get bested merely because he wasn't the magical egghead the others were. Would there be penalties for his preferable methods?

Whatever.

CloudyBlueDay · Jan 28, 2017

ELEANOR ROSEWELL

The pendant reminded her of her Ilvermorny days. The Quidditch games, the fireplaces in the house common rooms. She touched the smooth metal gingerly, maybe lovingly. There was something about the Silver Heart Circle that brought back so many warm memories. And at the same time, it was so hard.

Unlike last time, the long, wide scar was covered up by a woven turtle neck, the only visible part of it a small sliver of pink skin on her chin that looked almost like the remnant of some sort of knife mishap. As the young woman gazed at her self in the mirror, Eleanor wondered if she could ever look at herself without remembering what she had once been.

Damn Tansy. Damn her. She wasn't mad, she was sorrowful. But damn her.

Headquarters was a beautiful building; one she wouldn't have minded residing in at all. It was certainly too large for what the Silver Heart Circle was now, but the brush that climbed along the outer walls and the clear lack of care in some areas, just because of it's size, did give it a certain charm. She was not the earliest nor the latest; just in time to see two unfamiliar faces enter. Shadow and Jay.

Eleanor took their appearances in; she had decided prior to entering the building that she would pick a new face to focus on rather than continue to steal glances at her long lost friend. Shadow seemed stiff, strong. Jay followed him like how a child follows their guardian when they are being dragged somewhere against their will. The younger man looked unhappy, that was for certain, but something else about him intrigued her.

Capture the Flag. She vaguely remembered that from elementary school, before her letter from Ilvermorny. Eleanor recalled the brutish boys trampling each other when it was shouted that another had the flag, the picking of teams that always left her in the general vicinity of last place. She wasn't terrible at sports; it was her sheer quietness that left her unwanted. But to play Capture the Flag in an environment like this.. she thought it might be interesting, to say the least.

"You seem excited." Eleanor said with a hint of a smile, voice soft, perhaps even able to miss it if you were trying quite hard to think on something else. Having had moved closer to Jay to get a word out to him. She wanted to see what he had to say.

@Red Thunder @all @rissa

The Silver Heart Circle - IC

the clairvoyant pterodactyl

consistently inconsistent

|| Perpetual GM ||

Moop.

Folksy

Guest

|| Perpetual GM ||

Disease Empress

monopoisoner

Guest

Moop.

the clairvoyant pterodactyl

Kathairein

Guest

Moop.

|| Perpetual GM ||

consistently inconsistent

Disease Empress

A Warrior in a Garden

Moop.

|| Perpetual GM ||

the clairvoyant pterodactyl

A Warrior in a Garden

consistently inconsistent