mckinnxn

[mckinnxn]

spellnbone​:

Marlene sounded genuine about him not disturbing her, and he hoped she wasn’t just very good at pretending. His own smile remained on his lips and his hands, one of them still in bandages, remained behind his back, as he approached some more. “Ah, in all honesty, I believe what brings me here will be of aggravating quality to you.”

Carefully he leaned with one shoulder against a wall, hoping it not too dirty, relaxing into this situation as best as he could. “Well,” he then rectified his statement, “it doesn’t have to be. It’s an inquiry, really, and if you dislike it, then there won’t be anything to aggravate you.”

She came to meet Edgar outside the stall of the winged horse she had been keeping company for a bit. Dusting her hands against each other, she muttered. “Aggravating?” Marlene’s tone of voice was soft, questioning the presence of an Edgar Bones, as if it could ever bring irritation to her.

Unintentionally, her posture rectified a little as her arms subconsciously crossed across her chest, as a way to shield herself for what was about to come. She courteously glanced at Edgar, opening up the discussion with her response. “Well, what’s the inquiry?”

[mckinnxn]

bristlybranwen​:

Bran didn’t exactly wait for Marlene to follow her, but when she did, there was no bristling against it. A sort of patience, rather, the way Bran turned her head when she was called and nodded in recognition. The expression of gratitude, however, just had her tear her gaze away again, and for a while she just stood there, elbows on the balustrade of the porch, looking out into the nothingness of the backyard. Then she held out a bottle of cider for Marlene to take.

“Long enough to desperately need a shower.” And accept Muggle clothes to wear afterwards. The sleeveless shirt with the weird frog puppet on it, and the thick blue trousers the lady had called jeans. Perhaps it was just being clean again, but Bran didn’t feel more uncomfortable in this outfit than she had in her dramatic ball gown at the Rosier Engagement Party. “After the party. Then I came back with you and Alaric. He seemed worried.” A pause, then a glance towards Marlene: “What happened at the Party?”

Marlene responded with a matter of fact “Right.” Her intention wasn’t to come across judgmental, but she wasn’t going to disagree with Bran on that possibility either, especially if she were to admit herself. She repeated herself, “... Right.” This time, however, her inflection changed to fit as confirmation of the events that transpired that night after she was knocked out unconscious. Somehow it seemed that she caused just as much trouble as she did good, enough to even send Bran to her and her brother’s rescue.

By this time, Marlene had inched close enough to only be a little less than a couple feet away from where Bran situated. “Well Gid and I had seemingly taken care of all the wards outside of the estate-” She paused, now in reverent pondering as she reflected again on her suggestion for the pair’s next move. “I suggested possibly taking a look in the party, in case they had done the same job inside... It seems irrational now, but I thought to be thorough.” Her eyes wondered off as she spoke that last sentence, sporting a soft pout. After a deep inhale, she spoke on exhale, “I’m sure you can guess how that turned out.”

[mckinnxn]

spellnbone​:

testing waters

Location: Stables, McKinnon Farm Time: Morning, 28th of February Status: Closed, for @mckinnxn

The decision had not yet fallen but Edgar believed that inquiries were always permitted, especially because honesty always flowed more easily without the feeling the weight of having to make a definite choice quickly.

He wasn’t often at the McKinnons’ Farm. It wasn’t so that he didn’t like it, on the contrary, he thought it rather quaint, but his duties in the Order rarely carried him here. The Dissendium Task Force was a branch quite detached from him, to a point that any decisions regarding it rarely ever even considered Edgar’s voice. And when he was present during the Inner Circle discussions that included Lily and Marlene, he did nothing but keeping the Minutes.

Some people thought this a sign that he was against the Task Force, but Edgar had never spoken against it. Neither to Lily or Marlene, nor to anyone else. Even in his private musings in his notebooks, he kept himself neutral.

And neutral he kept himself now as he stepped into the stables. Hands crossed behind his back, a comfortable pace in his calculated steps, he approached Marlene McKinnon. His habitual slightly leaned-back posture was more straight today, his dark coat and stark-white cravat sat impeccably, and his shoes were shined. Nevertheless he gave the working farm girl a genuine, amicable smile. “Miss Marlene. I hope I do not disturb?”

Things were finally starting to pick up again for Marlene around the ranch. She could slowly feel the energy of her old self start to fully flesh back. The motivation to do the work she believed in never faded away, but that spirit she was starting to regain was what she had feared would never come back. Yet two weeks later, here she was grooming one of the youngest Abraxan in her family’s care, after a long, fun flight before twilight - just happy to be back in some sort of normal.

Marlene could hear footsteps outside of the stall she was in, and so, she walked over towards the edge of the gated partition. Peering over, she saw a friendly face. “Edgar!” She called out to him with serene, delighted energy, knowing the visits from one of the few Inner Circle members she was rather close to were few and far between. And therefore, these moments just had to be cherished. “You could never. What brings the visit?”

[mckinnxn]

inconsolcble​:

🐾

Remus wasn’t always great at reading people, his mind always so clouded with his own issues – it was easy to convince himself someone hated him, or didn’t want to talk to him, or anything of the sort. Marlene, however, was a good friend, someone he’d known for so long now, someone he held dearly close to his heart. And she looked like she wanted him gone.

For a lingering moment he just stood there, feeling suddenly small enough that the ground could swallow him up easily. He considered simply apologising, making up something else he wanted to talk about, and then promptly packing his bags and never showing up here again. It was easier to deal with rejection if he did it to himself. It was easier apologising for the inconvenience and accepting the loss than begging for something he knew he couldn’t get. And judging by the exhaustion in her words, the way she looked at him – it was all different already. “Um,” he started, eloquent as ever, making the sound just for the sake of filling up silence as he gave himself more time to word his thoughts. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and hid his shaky hands as he crossed his arms, but he couldn’t meet her eyes when he spoke again. “It’s… I’ll just take a few more days on the shelter. Lily’s there. Just until I find somewhere else to live, but if that’s– if it’s a problem, I can just crash at Sirius, too.” His voice was calm and quiet despite his nerves, and he only looked back up at her when he said, “I’m sorry.”

Marlene’s facial expressions weren’t the most animated. In fact, it wasn’t surprising if someone were to say she was hard to read, as she wasn’t someone to wear her heart on her sleeve, let alone her emotions on her face. So although Marlene might have in mind a certain opinion or intention, who knows what kind of vibe she was unconsciously giving off to people?

Her eyes narrowly kept up, following the change of expression on Remus’ face. She could sense from his energy that something had really been weighing on him. “Why are-”  She began to speak, but paused mid-sentence. Merlin, he was beginning to stop in train of thought. “Don’t apologize.” She shook her head at his offer to go, which to her just seemed ridiculous. He’d already stayed here for so long - and now it was beginning to make sense why he insisted before to stay in the shelters out in the woods.

Maybe something in her was growing rather impatient, but Marlene plainly asked, “Is this about what’s been-” going around? She thought. But she grew timid at the way she’d come to phrase it. At the same time, she wasn’t the kind to bead around the bush - not to anyone - especially her closest friends. It was best to be straightforward, at least in her book. “... You know, about you being a werewolf?” That was the first time she’d come to say it out loud, almost accepting its reality. Yet, she left open to him to make sure. “Are you?”

[mckinnxn]

gideonprewxtt​:

Silent as the Night

Gideon knew that they had to find every ward. They had been numerous outside. As if the Rosiers were expecting some kind of fight. Which given the nature of their lives perhaps it was fair for them to expect it. Gideon certainly had many more wards than he would have had if he had never involved himself in the war. He thought the same was probably true for most people on both sides of the war. He couldn’t even say that he had people who could just walk through them at any time. Except maybe his sister. Fabian at one time as well. 

He continued on searching for anything that was out of the ordinary in the home. Marlene didn’t seem to be finding anything else and he was almost about to suggest her casting the spell once more to strengthen it when suddenly they were met with two wizards he hadn’t seen before. He allowed his own arm to draw Marlene against his side as if they had been trying to find some privacy from the party for reasons other than the truth. His wand falling neatly to be hidden by the sleeve of his robes. 

“We seem to have gotten a bit turned around. I can never find my way anywhere. Bad with directions and all you know?” He allowed a relaxed smile to come to his lips as he took in the sight of the wizards before them. Scowls were on both of their faces and he was sure they weren’t buying the story. Accusations of not being on the list were tossed at them and suddenly wands were being drawn. This hadn’t been the plan. Gideon wasn’t the best in a fight. He didn’t hesitate though and he dropped his arm from Marlene’s hold and took a few steps away from her to give them both room. A curse was flying from the mouths of men before them already and Gideon raised his wand barely in time to send out a shield before following it up with a curse of his own that only managed to slow one of the men they now had to fight. 

..

Marlene turned to watch Gideon as he spoke, completely playing into the role of bumbling, lost souls, as they tried to fool the wix in front of them. Her presence still remaining stoic, as her heart subconsciously began beating slightly faster. In hopes to lighten the mood and appear relaxed, Marlene whipped her focus back to the unplanned company and with a soft, cool smile responded, “What he said.” However, it seemed as if their act was not enough to believe their story, as Marlene observed the ever-growing scowls and accusations being thrown at them. She could tell where the shift of energy would be leading them towards and she had to think quick on her feet. She wasn’t going to let her concern and worry over her suggestion to enter the household and the situation at possible hand, when Gideon was not at his strongest in wand-on-wand combat. She had to think of a plan.

Wands were being drawn, as she suddenly felt Gideon step away, letting go of the hand he held behind her lower back. In complete instinct, Marlene reached for the grasp of her wand and shot a curse at the wizard who sent one towards Gideon. She flung herself in front of his spell shield, stepping closer to the antagonizing wizards to push them back against the wall. It was two against one for those split seconds, as she tackled the multiple curses casted in their direction. However, Marlene sliced through each of them, like a warm knife to butter, with as many non-verbal defense spells at her disposal - hoping to ward them off long enough that Gideon could dive in and throw them off balance when their focus was off-guard.

[mckinnxn]

bristlybranwen​:

Strange, how just two nights ago all the questions now directed at Marlene, had been thrown at Bran. Strange, how she had been forced to dismiss and shrug and just grasp optimism from thin air, hoping her trust in Emmeline wasn’t misplaced. Strange, how relieved she suddenly was when it turned out she hadn’t lied. Marlene was better, and Bran didn’t really give a fuck about that, but seeing the refugees having hope in their own future again? It was… Bran tore her gaze to the oven. 

She grabbed the casserole and put it on the stove. With a giant spoon she scooped up large pieces of the pie onto the plates handed to her by a young boy she’d played cards with two nights ago. His younger brother brought them to the table one by one, mostly ignored by the refugees who were still eagerly crowding Marlene. The last plates Bran served were Marlene’s and her own, and she pushed past the refugees to hand them over. “All right, all right,” she grunted, “let the damsel breathe or do you want her to faint again?” The words were rough, meant to tease and mock but the smirk on her lips wasn’t sharp. “Everyone sit down or the billywigs will come steal your food.” She placed the plate before Marlene catching her eye only briefly and exposing the softness in them all the same. 

She didn’t sit by Marlene’s side. Partly because she was too aware of seating rules found in the higher circles of pureblood society, and with Marlene sitting at the end of the table, it would say all the wrong things for Bran to sit by her right hand side. And partly because she knew the questions would come, had to be answered, and the longer she kept herself away, the longer Marlene could eat in peace, recuperate and gain strength before facing the aftermath of the Rosier Party. Had Bran been a sign of hope for the refugees, she was now an omen of bad news for Marlene.

Sitting somewhere across the table, in one of those seats that appeared magically depending on how many people needed to be accommodated that night, she busied herself with her shepherd’s pie. It was good. Really. The type of good that someone with a more verbose mind-set could’ve described for a long time. The type of good that even someone who only a few weeks ago would’ve found it disgusting to eat next to a Muggleborn couldn’t lie about. Why on earth she was sitting here, she didn’t know. From time to time she glanced over to Marlene, nudging the young boy next to her to get everyone more water at some point. She herself felt like drinking something stronger, though, and thus, while the meal was still going and the refugees were still buzzing with relief and joy, she eventually got up herself. 

A cider in her hands she made her way out to the back porch.

If you were to tell her that Branwen Yaxley would be in front of her, serving her food and lightheardedly teasing a crowd of muggleborn refugees, Marlene would gawk at you and question the amount of sanity you had left. And yet, here she was - oddly living this surreal scenario. Dinner continued as it was expected. Casual conversation coated with occasional check-in and questioning. After a while though, it seemed as if the enthusiasm from the house guests began to slow down - possibly out of reading Marlene's own subtle energy and forced focus on the plate in front of her.

It felt like subconscious instinct when Marlene noticed Bran get up and walk away from the table. Externally, she kept it calm and collected, but she knew she had just as many questions for Bran, as the refugees had had for her. She had to take advantage of this moment now before things went back to the way they usually were between them. "Excuse me." Marlene politely muttered to the guests still seated at the table , before following Bran onto the back porch, just a couple minutes after.

Just as she caught sight of Bran, close enough for her to here, Marlene called to her, "Hey." She shot up a timid smile. "It's probably not your cup o'tea to take the gratitude.. but thanks." She wasn't sure just how far Bran's hospitality had gone, but at least the little she had seen could not go without her appreciation. "... How long have you been here?" She asked in her best attempt to not seem rude. After all, Branwen was the last person Marlene expected to be here, but that didn't give her the critique.

[mckinnxn]

bristlybranwen​:

check in dinner // branwen+marlene

MMc headed your way soon, Emmeline had written. And: I think she’ll be back today or tomorrow, but I don’t know for sure. Emme worked on her - not me. She was awake by the end of the night, though, had been Benjy’s statement. 

By the time Bran and Benjy were done cleaning the Potter House, the early night of February 15th had fallen. Marlene McKinnon, much like Edgar Bones, were both back in the realm of the conscious but the draughts they were given drew back to sleep again and again. That was the downside of magical medicine – it fed on your magic to work, and it could easily drain a Wix, depending on how bad the injury was. This was something Bran had never been taught at nursing school, but something she had realised only a few years back, when her Blacksmith Master Boris, a Squid, had burnt himself in the fire, and the healing potion she had handed him had barely worked. Perhaps it wasn’t too bad like this, though, as it allowed Emmeline to take a breather for a while.

Upon readying herself to finally go home, Bran saw a figure by Marlene’s bedside. Approaching, she recognised him as her brother, Alaric, and greeted him with a nod. Due to keeping the medical record of patients private, Emmeline hadn’t told Bran what was going on with Marlene, but the reassurance she’d be back on her feet come tomorrow night was enough to appease Alaric. ‘Help me get her home?’ he’d asked, and Bran had looked at the garments she’d been wearing for more that 24 hours now, sweaty, stressful, restless 24 hours, and agreed all the same. 

After all, what if there were a sudden relapse of her condition? Someone with at least some sort of medical knowledge had to stick around and make sure no one fucked up. So off they went, back to the McKinnon’s Farm, where a collective sigh passed through the refugees when they heard the core of the Dissendium Task Force had returned, was going to be fine. They prepared dinner for her, but she slept through the evening, then the night, the food which Bran brought up to her room and placed on her nightstand remained untouched. Only the water was drunk, eventually, somewhere around four in the morning, and Bran refilled it with a reassured nod. 

In the morning of the 16th, Alaric returned, and so did Marlene’s parents. ‘We take over, take some rest’, they’d told Bran, and she had scoffed because how dare those farmers tell her what to do! But her skin was sticky, her feet stank, and even the lightest touch hurt to her skin from the exhaustion. One of the refugees, a young mother she had sat next to two nights prior as they’d waited to hear news from Emmeline via Owl, seemed to read her thoughts, and brought her a new set of clothes. Stiff blue trousers in a rough Muggle material, and a sleeveless shirt with a picture printed on its front which depicted a group of colourful puppets. She stared at the frog in its center for a moment before accepting the offer.

When she returned from her shower, dressed, she received a smile from the mother and her family, and because wearing Muggle clothes was embarrassing already, but being smiled at by Muggleborns was a downright insult, Bran grabbed a large kitchen knife – and helped preparing dinner. The mood wasn’t exactly light, but compared to last night when they’d all but sat in silence around the kitchen table, it was cheerful enough. Had Bran been the one talking last night, demanding for the refugees to not lose hope just now – by Morgana! Such whiny people! – she was the one listening tonight. Listened to the quarelling of wife and husband, listened to the shy guitar someone played in the other room, listened to the stories one child excitedly told her older sibling.

They were about to set the table when a hush fell over the room. Bran turned and found Marlene McKinnon in the doorway. On a scale from fawn to Morgana herself, she was somewhere near ‘could be worse’. The polite, weak-ass smile she gave Bran had her roll her eyes though. In large steps she crossed the room and grabbed Marlene by the shoulder. “You need a good load of shepherd’s pie,” she said and dragged Marlene (surprisingly gently) over to the table and pulled a chair out. The refugees hurried over to greet her, and so Bran removed herself and didn’t look back as she moved back to the oven to deal with the dish.

Marlene might have held herself up on the outside, but rest assured, she was nervous to see Bran get up in full energy from the table and come get her. Her eyes looked her up and down, wondering in the moment what she was going to do, half expecting she was about to get a lecture from her in the middle of the open kitchen and dining room. When all she finally did was mildly grab her by the shoulder and take her over to the table, a cooling sense of relief came over her body.

Shepherd’s pie wasn’t exactly her favorite meal, but as she became more aware of her senses, the hunger in Marlene began to loom on her and anything available at this point was what she would need. At the table, all the refugees had begun to call and roar with joy and comfort, to which she’d respond with phrases such as “I’m feeling better, thank you.” and “It’s nice of you to worry but I’m okay.” and “I’m glad to be back too.” 

It brought a warm sense of comfort to see all these people so worried about her well-being, finishing to escort her to a chair they had saved for her. However, as they continued to bombard her with their questions and concerns, she was beginning to miss the opposing honest force Bran’s presence brought into the mix.

[mckinnxn]

Ever since the day she had woken up from her last mission with The Order, Marlene had felt like her days had fallen into the strict routine of eat, work, and sleep. It wasn’t like her to avoid human interaction, even if it made her feel uncomfortable, but in order to process the information she’d only come across five days prior, she preferred to keep to herself, as busy with tasks as she could be. After all, Marlene needed time to let it sink in that James was dead. And that Remus - someone she considered to be one of her nearest and dearest friends - was in fact a werewolf... The shock of the latter hadn’t yet gone away.

In fact, the shock came with quite the reenergized jolt, when as she was prepping the bedroom for a new refugee’s arrival, Marlene heard a knock by the doorway. Turning to see that it was him, Marlene mindlessly said,  “Remus. Uh-” She paused in hesitation, drawing a blank of what to say or what to do in the moment. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to talk about anything with anyone yet, but sooner or later, she figured she had to and she didn’t want to come off rude. Marlene continued in a soft tone, “Yeah, sure... What’s up?”

Date: 21st February 1982 Location: McKinnon Estate @mckinnxn​

This was one conversation he was dreading. Perhaps even more than any other, and that was coming from someone who had been cornered by Caradoc yesterday, and that had been nerve-wrecking. He’d bumped into many other people on his quest to find Marlene, and he’d let himself get distracted, but now he’d managed to track her down on one of the rooms and he couldn’t run away from it anymore.

He had a plan. He didn’t want to take advantage of the McKinnon’s kindness, she had already done so much by letting him stay before she knew the truth. She had every right to be furious at him now, for hiding this from her; maybe she’d feel betrayed, maybe she didn’t even want to see him at all. He just had to ask and see for himself.

His knuckles rattled against the doorframe and he cleared his throat. “Marlene,” his voice cracked like he was a pre-pubescent teenager, but he soldiered on. “Can we talk?”

[mckinnxn]

check in dinner // branwen+marlene

Date: Evening of February 16th, 1982

Location: Mainhouse at The McKinnon Ranch

@bristlybranwen​

The body aches seemed to have dwindled by now. It had been two days since the Rosier Estate mission, and yet, Marlene felt like she’d only been conscious a collective couple hours or so since then. Therefore, even though she had enough energy to get back on her two feet, she was still feeling pretty weak, not yet back to normal. Not much was known about the state of things with the Order. From what her brother Alaric could tell her, she knew she had fainted in midst of a fight and Emmeline had successfully managed to heal her up enough to make it back to the ranch and to her family’s company. Her parents had returned, in what felt like after a long time a close quarter reunion, beginning to last longer than a holiday visit.

Even though she wasn’t awake majority of the time, Marlene knew she had been lovingly watched over and cared for. However, it was time she had probably shown face in the Mainhouse, as the refugees probably had a million questions for her and where she’d been and how she was doing. Marlene wasn’t in the particular mood to interact with any of them just yet, as she was still trying to adjust back herself, but she figured her presence would at least put them at ease. It was until she noticed the face of Branwen Yaxley, a woman who didn’t really match the exact version of “ease” she had in mind. As their eyes locked for a second, Marlene felt nerves in the pit of her stomach, able to muster a small, polite wave with two of her fingers, before looking away.

[mckinnxn]

✺: something my muse loves and never gets tired of

Marlene feels like working on The Ranch is such an engrained part of her life that she could never see her day to day without it. Sure, Marlene loves a nice day in, reading books by the fireplace with tea in hand, but she enjoys being out and about on the grounds of her home even more. Marlene loves whenever she goes flying with the winged horses, since that feeling of equal joy and adrenaline is incapable of being replicated. Nevertheless, what Marlene loves most about her home is the way it brings people together - not just her loved ones, but even acting as refuge for people seeking hope from the dangers of war. She loves being surrounded by those she calls family and doing her part for The Order.

[mckinnxn]

☹: something that makes my muse upset

Definitely anything here would count, since anything that would make Marlene angry would make her equally upset. Building off on that, Marlene is upset whenever she thinks of the longevity of the war and how much it has changed the people around her. She’s upset whenever she makes a mistake or finds a problem that she is unable to solve. She genuinely hates the feeling of being helpless, as she has never had to confront the reality of feeling it before the war.

[mckinnxn]

☂: my muse’s favorite season or time of year ☆: what my muse would be famous for if they were famous

☂: my muse’s favorite season or time of year 

Even though many would assume the winter holidays were Marlene’s favorite time of the year, it would actually be the last couple weeks of summer leading up to the earliest months of fall. This time of the year always meant the best weather on the ranch, which means the winged horses were always their happiest in flight. The flowers scattered amongst the meadows were still in full bloom. Even when the trees began to loose their leaves, the soft cold was still warm enough to enjoy without bitterness. Even as a child, Marlene always enjoyed this time, since it was filled with the most exciting moments within the McKinnon family, and it meant she would return to another exciting year at school.

☆: what my muse would be famous for if they were famous

If the war was ever won and long over, Marlene would like the idea of being famous for holding headquarters to the Dissendium Task Force and being a part of The Order of Phoenix. However, odds are she’d more likely be famous for her work with The McKinnon Ranch and her expansions to the family business.

[mckinnxn]

✗: something my muse hates or gets angry about

If you’re looking to press Marlene’s buttons, the easiest way to tick her off is to talk ill about her family and the ranch. Above all else, either in person or in place, Marlene cherishes her home and would do anything to defend those she loves most in the world. Truthfully, if you ever find yourself in the position where you have talked badly about the McKinnons, watch out for Marlene, for as small as she seems, she’ll come to bite off your head.

Outside of that, Marlene hates it when people underestimate her and don’t use her skillsets to their full potential. Due to the crippling hero complex, Marlene is a perfectionist when it comes to doing the right thing - whether in war or at work or in her own personal life. She hates it when she can’t do more for what she believes in. When it comes to justice, Marlene will volunteer to be at the forefront of the fight - and her bitterness will bubble if taken away the chance.

She also just about hates it when people don’t speak with a clear mind and research all sides of the information - which from time to time, she will do herself. This just means the moment where Marlene does become a reactive leader instead of a proactive one, defending her opinion without all the facts, and is made aware of it, she will beat herself up about it.

[mckinnxn]

gideonprewxtt​:

Silent as the Night

Gideon was happy to follow along after Marlene. It was enjoyable work for the most part. Almost mind numbing and he found himself slipping into a comfortable routine that wouldn’t be good to feel during a mission. Several times he found he had to shake himself to get his mind back on task. Back to searching for any potential danger. 

They had taken down a good amount of wards. He thought most of them to be overkill. Did the Rosiers have to have quite so many? He doubted it. It did make him wonder if they had prepared for battle more than security at the amount of them though. “I think taking a look inside for them is a good idea. We just need to be careful. We’re not exactly invited guests.” He smiled once more wishing he had covered the bright red shock of his hair before coming that night. 

He moved toward the house staying a step or two behind Marlene so she could still search out any lingering wards. He was sure there had to be some in the house. There had been too many outside for the house to not hold a few of it’s own. The approached a side door that seemed to be in a deserted part of the house. Slipping inside quietly Gideon turned to her to see where the spell would take them. “Where to? Is the spell any stronger in here?”

Waiting for Gideon’s response to the next plan of action, Marlene nodded, knowing well that even if they wanted to be thorough, all of their work would be for nothing if they weren’t careful. “Right.” With this renewed sense of caution in mind, Marlene followed her partner as they stepped towards the house. Unquestionably, she had a slow sinking feeling of fright. It was small, and so Marlene easily fought against it, but she knew it served as an important remind her that she was still human.

As they slipped inside the side door, Marlene felt her senses heighten, as her eyes scoped the area in analysis. She quietly cast the ward-locating spell once again. However, the spell revealed to be just as stagnant as it was outside. Marlene muttered softly, squinting her eyes while her eyebrows scrunched up, “Nothing in here. Odd.” Her mind coming up with possible explanations at what felt like a million miles per hour. Such heavy security outside of the Rosier Estate, and yet inside, it felt... defenseless?

“We could keep looking, but I’m not detecting any strong wards in here. It’s almost like-” But she couldn’t finish the thought out loud, as suddenly two unknown wizards came out from around the corner, finding the two of them standing alone in the room, without any explanation. Shit. Marlene thought, while trying to remain with a cool expression in the exterior. The first thing she’d thought to do was wrap her arm inside Gideon’s, swipe her other hand holding her wand behind her back, and ask, “Oh, Good Evening, gentlemen... Which way is it to the party?”

[mckinnxn]

a-glasshalfempty���:

It happened very quickly. Fabian didn’t have the chance to reply, to protest, even to prepare himself for the apparition. Apparating wasn’t the most pleasant experience even under the best circumstances, when you weren’t expecting it, it was even worse.

They reappeared and Marlene shoved him back with surprising force. He fell back against the wall of the alley, catching his breath. At least he still seemed to have all his extremities, nothing hurt more than it usually did.

He was still getting his bearings when Marlene started her inquisition. It was bad, that it took him this long to orientate himself. There had been a time when he was already ready for anything, when this would have barely phased him. Now he was dazed and confused. “Wh- What?” He asked, shaking his head, baffled. Or was he? Was he really baffled, or was he terrified that someone had seen something he dared not even admit to himself. 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Everything. It had everything to do with why Alaric had been hurt. “I said I was sorry! What more do you want?” His voice no longer quiet and confused but rising slightly in indignation. Still, Marlene was clearly fired up. She was small true, but Fabian didn’t doubt she could do a lot of damage if she wanted. “You’re just going to what? Beat me up in some back alley now? An eye for an eye, is that is?” Was he trying to wind her up, was there a part of him that wanted her to take him down? It would be easier, less painful even, than answering her question.

“You don’t think I can smell it off you?” Marlene sized him up. It’s possible he tried to hide the stench of alcohol emulating from his person, but either his breath was heavy with its remnants or he hadn’t gotten around to washing the set of clothes had been wearing. Maybe even both. Fabian hadn’t seemed like himself, not for a long time, so how was Marlene to assume that this had been the norm for him? 

Marlene couldn’t hide the brutal grimace spread across her face, as she shook her head back and forth, trying to find the right words for what she wanted out of him. Truthfully, Marlene was still trying to figure that out herself. “Sorry doesn’t mean anything. Sorry is useless. Sorry is just another word without any follow through.” The grip in her wand grew tight in tension, a subconscious pit feeling of guilt for ranting at him without any rational communication. 

The suggestion of Marlene taking Fabian out into the alley, as a tactic to attack him when most alone and vulnerable, pulled her out of the blind bitter fit she was in. Her eyes widened, blinking in a quick flutter than before. “Beat you up? ... Seriously?” Part of her might have been flattered even at the thought that Marlene had come to whack some sense into him. After all, comparing the statures between the two, the fact that Marlene would have the gall to do so might have been disgraceful, and yet impressive.

Instead, she just found herself standing there, dumbfounded and where she had found them - where she found him, where she had found herself. “What’s going on with you, Fab?” Marlene asked in a soft, sincere tone. She gestured away with her free hand. “I don’t buy your carelessness with Alaric to just be dumb luck and innocent mistakes. There’s more to it. I see it. Good Godric, I smell it off you.”

change in the afternoon // open

[mckinnxn]

bristlybranwen​:

change in the afternoon // open

“Oh, I get it, because I got no friends but meself,” Bran said, rolling her eyes, “funny.” She waved at the barman. “Another one, yeah?” And when he stopped to give Marlene a nod, Bran gave it a shrug. “Yeah, you’re right, from now on I shall never assume again that you got something interesting to say. My mistake.”

“Might want to not think that the choice of words wasn’t on purpose, pixie.” Bran returned, clipped. “Anyone who knows me even just a tiny bit would know that you could be just my type – but anyone who knows me also knows you’re not because I don’t actually care about annoying, mindless people who have nothing of importance to say.” What a ridiculously long-winded way to say it. Bran clenched her teeth before finishing her beer. Just in time for the barman to place two new pints before them, shaved and cold and just what Bran needed. She reached for it.

“I don’t think being an arse is a crime. And anyway, you don’t know my family. They’re no arses. They’re bloody good people.” But no one ever cared to learn more  about that. Sure, her cousin’s branch of the family was all Death Eater, but her branch of the family? They were the good guys, goddamnit. Except that no one ever cared to learn about that. They just heard ‘Yaxley’ and decided they were rotten. Fuck the millions and millions of galleons spent over centuries on infrastructure and education, fuck the hard work put into charities, fuck the amount of people Lady Bethan Yaxley alone had dragged out of poverty and into proper jobs. No one gave a shit about that. No one cared about their word, just the same way no one in the Order cared about Bran’s work.

Marlene forced a smile, unamused at Bran’s sarcastic, dry comments. Her energy was getting sucked from what an awful mood she always had. It reminded her of why they had never spoken much before. At this point, if Branwen was going to be a closed-minded, bitter conversationalist, well Marlene was not going to generate it with a logical response.

Marlene’s eyes squinted, now her forced smile evolving into a genuine sly smirk. “Are you flirting with me?” Marlene teasingly said, putting Branwen on the spot in hopes to catch her off guard. She normally tried to keep a rational mind in these sort of instances, but the more frustrated she had become with Bran’s distasteful manners, the more her pride had built up. And she wasn’t going to entertain this further with rational, unfeigned responses that would just keep getting dodged. “If you are, you’re awfully funny about it.” 

Marlene shrugged, while pursing her lips. “They must be saints having to put up with your attitude.” She grabbed her beer and went in for a harty chug.

[mckinnxn]

drink me // marlene

(I got the same ask from @untamedmeadowes and decided they could make it a party. Hey, maybe it’s the prequel to the Benjy ask.)

“Shots, shots, shots!” Sirius chanted, despite the fact that both witches were actually chugging beer and not taking shots. The distinction between the two was going a bit fuzzy, about as fuzzy as how many actual shots he’d taken. 

Marlene slammed her pitcher down on the table, grinning as Sirius cheered for her. Dorcas slammed hers a few seconds later, but she was pouting over not winning.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Marlene said, slinging an arm around her. “Some things just take practice.”

“Yeah,” Sirius chimed in. “Like talking to pretty girls you consider your best friend.”

As Dorcas’ eyes practically bulged from her head, the other two started laughing, Marlene already gesturing toward the bar for another round.