#// mi admins have blown me away once again!!!

[jinxmi-blog]

loose lips

TW DRUGS A tip has reached the ears of your higher ups that a certain Black Lotus drug dealer knows more than he should about a Shin Nahee. “It’s a reliable source,” your senior insists, “so we want the best on this job. Don’t fuck this up — we can get information in ways the SPD can’t. While they’re wasting time looking for footprints in the mud, it’s us who are doing the dirty work.” 

According to the call received mere hours ago from a public phone, voice transformer and all, Shin Nahee had called the dealer six times in the two weeks prior to her death from another public phone in Dongdaemun-gu. The calls themselves can’t be accessed, but a little extra fizz to their drink and the dealer should be talking plenty. 

He frequents a nightclub in Gangnam-gu, particularly a private VIP lounge in the back for deals and pretty prostitutes of either gender. “It’s up to you to decide who to send, or to go yourself, but know that no matter what, if this fails, it falls on you, Jin.” 

Behind the mask of control there’s always a little shiver of fear that runs down his spine whenever he has to deal with Black Lotus. It’s not irrational; Jin is all-too aware of where this particular fear has its roots and he’s determined that he will not let it debilitate him. He knows this drug dealer, but it has been many years since Jin was under the same organisation as him, and he hopes a mixture of time, alcohol, and drugs will dull the dealer’s memory. 

He decides to go himself. Of course, he has any number of prostitutes he could send in his place, people who are capable and trusted, and it would have the benefit of getting to avoid this particular blast from the past, but it feels wrong. It falls on you. Salvatore are serious about this case, not to mention the SPD. There’s a weight to this job. Even if it turns out to be fruitless, they have given it to him for a reason. At least if it falls on him, it will be his own fault. He can take responsibility for himself. And so bribes the security at the club for access in the afternoon, then pretties himself up with BB cream and kohl and begins to make his way back to Gangnam-gu. 

This whole Valentine’s case makes his skin crawl. He’s seen far worse, of course. It’s not so much the crime itself but the pattern it’s copying that bothers him. Even when justice is served and the culprit is locked away their deeds live on to haunt the city. Hell, what if they caught the wrong killer last year? It opens a can of worms for Jin, filled with several questions he doesn’t have the heart to focus on right now. It’s a bitter pill to swallow but he forces it down, focuses on the task as he climbs the steps to the VIP room with his most charming smile, two flutes of champagne in hand (his favorite drug swirled into both). He’s unarmed, but guns have never been his weapon of choice. 

The dealer goes by the name of Mamba, an alias Jin has always thought to be rather redundant. He must be both blind and arrogant to think he is anything as deadly as the snake he’s named after. He feels the curl of dislike in his gut, reminding himself that even if Mamba is a brutish sort of man, his drugs have doubtlessly ruined hundreds of people, and that he almost definitely is armed and dangerous. Seokjin wonders if he had anything to do with his brother, when he was dabbling in Black Lotus’s world of drugs. It’s easy to plaster himself along Mamba’s side as he finishes pleasantries, ending a deal with a few lines of coke with his client. Thankfully there’s no flciker of recognition when he looks at Jin’s face, nothing more than a sleazy smile; it takes all of Seokjin’s self-control to resist the urge to gag. He’s played this game before though, and he presses the first glass into Mamba’s hand with a simpering smile as he edges even closer. 

He’s played this game before, but it’s been a while.

It doesn’t take very long. The drugs are potent, and Jin successfully feeds two glasses to him in quick succession. Fifteen minutes, a few sloppy kisses, a shed jacket and a wad of cash stuffed into his back pocket later, and the drugs have kicked in. Mamba’s hands stop roaming and fall listlessly by his side as he rambles to Jin, about how much he hates the previous client, how frustrated he is with his superiors, how stressed he is. Jin wades through the information carefully, finding a way he can spin it to his own advantage. “Of course you’re stressed,” he says, a placating hand on his shoulder. “With this whole Valentines killer, everyone is tense.” He fakes a shudder. “It’s terrifying. I don’t feel safe on the streets anymore. How horrible for the victims!” 

This sets Mamba on another rant, about the cowardly nature of the murders, about how the killer should fight them “like a man!” He continues on about what he would do if he ever came face to face with the killer. The drunken bravado is false, but Jin probes. More useless information, until—  

“He killed Nahee-yah, bastard. Poor kid.” 

“Did you know her well?” Could the first victim of this killer have associations with a Black Lotus drug dealer? The media seemed to think her an innocent martyr, but this suggests otherwise… 

“We went to school together. I talked to her lots, y’know. Before she died. She kept calling me.” 

“Why?” 

“Why does anyone call anyone? To talk.” He coughs. “Poor girl. She’d had her own problems too, y’know? Money problems. Ruins everyone.” 

Jin wants to say that many financial problems are caused by drugs and gang activity, but holds his tongue. He probes some more, but the information is useless. Mamba knows nothing of substance about the victim, apart from what he said about financial problems. Which in itself is incredibly interesting to Jin. There is the chance, of course, that the financial problems she had told her old friend about were unrelated. But why him? Why from a public phone? Did she want money from him? Could she have borrowed from the wrong people? A possible motive; are the attacks not as random as he had thought? 

It’s still unclear, but Jin is no detective. He remains for another twenty minutes to clear the air of any suspicion, doesn’t protest when Mamba shoves more money in his hands for a few more vague fumbles. He’s sufficiently out of it, enough for Jin to collect his money, slip on his jacket, and exit the VIP area while Mamba begins to snore on the couch. He’s relieved most of all; that he wasn’t recognized as a runaway ex-Lotus whore, that it didn’t get violent, that he gleaned something useful. He’s also reminded of how much he hates the scum like Mamba, how important the work Salvatore is doing remains. He goes home with a spring in his step despite his worried features, calls his superior upon arriving home, and arranges to go to the SPD tomorrow. He doesn’t care about the judgmental stares when they know his methods. He doesn’t even care that this information may or may not be useful; he wants to do whatever he can to get this killer off the streets. Isn’t that what Salvatore is all about?

[ceaderblocks]

The Devil’s in the Details Ch. 6

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five //

Read on A03

Created alongside @thematrixmutual

Join the discord here!

Cub knew it was wrong. He <em>knew</em> helping Scar carry the AFK Xisuma to the End was wrong (was he really AFK?), and he knew Scar shooing him away to hide Xisuma screamed bad. But he did it anyways, because Scar was his best friend.

Except Xisuma had been missing for three days now, and Scar was adamant he didn’t remember helping with the prank. Scar was also avoiding everyone, working at night and skipping social activities to work on the strange black tower in the shopping district.

He was still working on the large black pillar in the shopping district when Cub flew by, determined to catch him in person. It looked almost finished, imposing and dark against the other shops. Scar was at the base, humming as he dug through some chests. The sun was setting, and the torches began to let off some light.

“Scar,” Cub said, and the other builder jumped, smacking his head against the chest lid.

“Oh! Cub!” Scar said nervously, rubbing his head. He avoided eye contact, choosing to look at his scuffed shoes instead.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” Cub said softly, placing a hand on Scar’s shoulder. He wasn’t wearing his jacket. “How’re you?”

“Busy as always,” Scar said, gesturing vaguely to the tower and still avoiding looking Cub in the eyes. Cub frowned.

“Are you okay, though?” Cub asked, concerned. Scar’s behavior was off.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Scar said, tugging on a pigtail nervously.

“You aren’t, though.” Cub said softly. “Scar, you’ve been acting strange lately.”

“Have I?” Scar frowned, looking concerned. “Guess I’m just tired.”

“Grian and False found both their bases aggressively terraformed, and they both said they hadn’t requested or paid for it. Black pillars have popped up all over the map. Jellie’s been sleeping at ConCorp. With me.” Cub said. Scar looked surprised at that final note, and finally looked at Cub.

Green eyes. Cub thought. Not blue.

“Is that where she’s been?” He asked, ignoring all the other points. “I was worried, I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Jellie never sleeps with me.” Cub continued. “Please Scar, tell me what’s wrong.”

Scar looked away again. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Cub.”

“Three days ago, you and I moved an AFK Xisuma from here to the End. He hasn’t returned, and you refused to let me know where you put him.” Cub said, and watched Scar turn from sadness to confusion to horror.

“Scar, something has been seriously wrong for a while, hasn’t it? Since we both fell into the Void a week ago?”

Scar bit his lip, on the verge of tears. He wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and nodded.

No jacket. Green eyes. Pigtails. Cub noted to himself.

“I’m really sorry Cub. Once I finish this build it’ll all go back to normal, I swear!” He said, and turned away, kneeling on the ground and re-opening the chest.

“Scar! Please!” Cub begged. He was so damn worried.

“Cub, I can’t-“ Scar suddenly fell quiet, doubling over and clutching his head for a moment before blinking rapidly and jerking upright, slamming the chest lid shut.

“Scar?” Cub asked, concerned. Scar turned to him, looking forlorn.

“Can we not talk about this?” He asked, an annoyed tone to his voice. He put a hand on Cub’s shoulder, leading him away from the tower. “Let’s do something else. Golf, maybe? We haven’t played golf in a while.”

“Scar-“ The grip on his shoulder tightened, and Cub fell silent, looking at his friend, panic leaping in his chest.

Blue eyes? Scar just had green eyes. What is going on?

“… Golf sounds great.” Cub finished, and Scar (this isn’t Scar) smiled, pulling his pigtails from his hair and re-arranging it into a ponytail.

“Super,” Scar said enthusiastically, pulling a rocket from his inventory. “Race you there?”

“Sure.” Cub said, hesitantly grabbing his own. “Should we invite some people to join us?”

“I think it’ll be a fun game between just you and I,” Scar said. “Besides, we haven’t gotten to have some quality time together in a while.”

“Right,” Cub said. “Of course.”

He needed to find out what was going on, and if he had to do it by being close to the enemy, so be it.

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The End was cold, as it usually was. Xisuma could usually spend lots of time in it just fine, but extended periods would even make the most well weathered Hermit a little chilly.

Xisuma was freezing.

Oscar had put him in Adventure mode, able to survive but not interact with most things. Xisuma had paced around the small cell, trying to get warm before realizing he was getting hungry and the Oscar hadn’t left him with food. He had then taken a few moments to figure out where he was. Xisuma came to the conclusion he was under an End Island, iron bars confining him to the small seven by seven block area. Oscar hadn’t left any food or water. Just Xisuma, his helmet and the emptiness of the Void. The doppelgänger had even taken his comm box.

“Bastard.” Xisuma had snarled, kicking an end stone through the bars and retreating to a corner to try and huddle and save body warmth.

That was a few days ago, now. Well, Xisuma thought it was a few days ago. Keeping track of time had never been a strong suit of his, and it was harder when there were no day cycles. It was also hard to focus when you were starving and freezing to death. He had stopped being nauseous from hunger a while back, the gnawing at the inside of his stomach taking second place to the violent shivers that wracked his body. He was exhausted but refused to fall asleep. Death had never bothered the Hermits before, but Xisuma was confident he wouldn’t wake up if he let his eyes shut.

A bright flash of white made Xisuma wince and weakly covered his eyes. Great. He was having hallucinations now. That’s cool.

“Finally.” A familiar voice said, and Xisuma uncovered his eyes, struggling to sit up. “It was terrible being banned. Nice of you to let me back.”

“Evil Xisuma?” Xisuma whispered, not willing to believe his eyes. There was his counterpart, dressed in red and stretching, seeming to not have taken notice of Xisuma quite yet.

“The one and only. Hey, where the fuck are we? The End??? God, you really didn’t want me to destroy the server if we’re all the way out here, huh.” EX said, touching his toes.

Xisuma was speechless. Evil X was banned. He shouldn’t be able to come back, let alone be summoned to him in this prison cell. This was definitely a hallucination. It had to be.

“Speechless, Xisuma?  I know, it’s cause- oh shit,” EX said, finally looking at his counterpart. “Dude, you look terrible.”

Rushing to his side, EX helped Xisuma sit up and lean against him. Xisuma shut his eyes, dizzy from the lack of food and water.

“Fuck, Xisuma.” EX said. “You didn’t unban me, did you?”

“No,” Xisuma said. Evil X dug through his inventory for a moment before pulling out a water bottle and some bread.

“Here, start with this. Slowly.” EX cautioned. Xisuma tore a small chunk off the bread and nibbled on it. His stomach growled. He felt sick from eating.

“If you didn’t bring me here, who did?” EX frowned, looking around. “Are we in a prison cell?”

“I don’t know who brought you,” Xisuma admitted, swallowing some water. “And we are. Scar’s evil counterpart put me here.”

“Hey, he’s stealing my style.” EX said. “I’m supposed to be the only evil twin here.”

“He’s dangerous.” Xisuma cautioned.

“And I’m not?” EX said. Xisuma chose to take another bite of bread instead of answering.

“If you’re here, you’re probably stuck in adventure mode with me.” Xisuma said.

EX frowned, opening his inventory. “Uh, no. I’m in survival. I have some stuff from last time and- holy shit Xisuma!”

“What?”

“I have admin controls!” EX said, thrilled. Xisuma perked up.

“You do?”

“Yeah, look!”

Evil Xisuma threw open a command screen. Xisuma was shocked. How was this happening?

“I haven’t been able to access this shit since season one.” EX said, typing in some commands. /give <Xisuma> golden carrots [64].

Xisuma gaped in surprise as 64 golden carrots popped into his otherwise empty inventory.

“Hell yeah,” EX said. “Now I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“You need to help me,” Xisuma pleaded, grabbing onto Evil Xisuma’s arms. “Please, EX, the whole server is in danger.”

“You always say that when I’m around too,” EX snarled, looking unhappy.

“This is different.”

“How so?” EX asked.

“This evil version of Scar-“

“Oscar.” EX said.

“- right, Oscar, he's taking over the server by replacing Scar. He’s building towers everywhere and forcing the land in unnatural ways. You didn’t replace me, so- wait.” Xisuma stopped his explanation and struggled backwards, EX cocking an eyebrow.

“How do you know his name?”

“Because he spoke to me in the Void? Dude, we’re both results of Void death mis-happenings. He promised me admin powers if I came and helped him.”

Xisuma clenched his jaw. “And here you are with admin powers.”

“Yeah,” EX agreed, but he looked confused. “But I told him no. I thought you brought me back to help fuck him over or something. I’m not sure why I have admin abilities.”

“You gave that up?” Xisuma was rendered speechless for the second time.

“Hm?”

“You gave up being an admin and getting revenge on the server?”

“I’m not a dick,” EX snorted. “I just want a bit of mischief. Y'all are to uptight for your own good. Oscar’s a full-blown asshole. He wanted to ‘ruin everyones lives’ and ‘replace everything with death’ or whatever. Not my style. Anyways,” EX pulled up his command screens again.

/set gamemode creative <Xisuma> /give cheats <Xisuma>

Xisuma felt better instantly. The cold that had frozen his limbs dissipated, and the hunger gnawing at his insides left. He felt energized and alive for the first time in many days.

“Thank you,” Xisuma said. “Really, I mean it.”

“Can I ask a favour from you?” EX asked, suddenly looking very serious. Xisuma nodded, unsure once more.

“Let me live with you all- peacefully. And also let me kick Oscar’s ass.”

Xisuma snorted in laughter and smiled, sticking out his hand. Evil Xisuma took it, shaking it.

“Deal.”

[hollowedrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, ANNE! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Sybill Trelawney. I’m so freaking ecstatic to have Godric’s Hollow’s own little seer! I’m so happy to have someone writing Sybill that understands just how complex she is. While so many members of the Order can escape the war by hiding away, for Sybill, there’s constantly a battle being fought in her mind, and you conveyed that beautifully. I can’t wait to see where you take her character.

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

ooc.

Name: Anne

age: (seventeen and up only) 31

preferred pronouns: she/her

timezone: EST/GMT-8

activity: (include a brief explanation)  I work full-time and am in a 6-month training course that meets once a month two hours away from me. I also haven’t rp’d in a tragically long time because of my mental health. That being said, I do have two days a week all to myself and a fairly generous work schedule, so there’s absolutely no reason I can’t work in a few hours 4-5 days a week. I’m also counting on my excitement keeping me going long enough to form a habit of checking the group regularly.

are you applying for more than one character?: Not at this time.

how do you feel about your character dying?: (in a roleplay centered on war, death is always a possibility. as an admin, it’s best to know ahead of time which players are comfortable with playing it out.) I would definitely be disappointed, but I could play it out. I’m a sucker for good plot and drama.

anything else?: (questions, concerns, etc.)

ic details.

full name: Sybill Audra Trelawney

date of birth: Nov 10th 1953

former hogwarts house: Ravenclaw. A reputation as a seer that left everyone clamoring for readings made them forgetful of the fact that Sybill was actually incredibly competent in most of her other classes. Transfiguration gave her some difficulty, but when she actually put in the time to practice, she’d master any of the spells and techniques thrown her way. The lives and futures of her peers tended to keep her preoccupied, at least until the courtyard accident in her fifth year. Traumatized by what she’d seen and then lived through, she dove into her studies as a way to distract herself and her inner eye. It didn’t work - she was still haunted by visions of the cruelty and violence burning through the country and of what terrible things some of her classmates got into when no Professors were around to catch them. The only thing her new devotion to her studies did for Sybill was successfully isolate her from the rest of her classmates, who in time stopped coming to her for readings as often. By the time she graduated, she was considered an oddity who they could mock, until they needed her for something, usually some hint of news of how a family member was faring in the war.

sexuality: bi/pansexual. Sybill likes to dramatically state that it isn’t the person she’s attracted to, but their aura and their sense of person. She isn’t exactly in the market for a relationship, however. Something about seeing the death of someone you dearly love can do that to a person. Sybill can’t yet bring herself to be too close to anyone in a long-term sense, but there’s nothing wrong with occasionally spending a long, cold night staying warm with someone else.

gender/pronouns: cis-female/she and her

face claim change: No, thank you! Zoe Kravitz is wonderful.

more.

how do you interpret this character’s personality? how will you play them? include two weaknesses & two strengths.

Sybill is incredibly complex and full of contradictions. She is intensely dramatic in her presentation, but down to Earth at her core. Part of her drama is all in fun. Since she was a young girl, she’s enjoyed teasing others and making fun of the stereotypes people hold about seers. She loves playing a role and being over the top. However, when it comes right down to it, she takes the inner eye very seriously and doesn’t appreciate it when others are flippant of the sight. Time is such a fickle creature and there are so many variables and players that being able to make accurate predictions is not some cheap parlor-trick (even if it is fun to play that part). However, as the war goes on, she finds it harder and harder to keep up the act. Sure, she tells her clients what they want to hear, but never anything too real. She won’t tell old Mrs. Boyce anything about her great-grandson, not even that he is actually still alive. The joy the old woman would feel would be beyond words. But then, how could Sybill protect the woman from searching for him and discovering the truth - that he’s a Death Eater who was responsible for the murders of his cousin and her family? Dark truths have always haunted Sybill, so she swallows them with shots of whiskey and assurances that the weather will be just fine for that small garden party you plan on throwing this weekend. Sometimes small and petty comfort is all we’re afforded.

Sybill doesn’t make friends easily. Her peers rarely seemed interested in her - just what she could do. She grew close to some girls in her year at first, but as time passed and her visions grew darker, she found it hard to be there for them. She would grieve twice for them - once when the vision hit, and then again when it came to pass. Her friends found it harder to relax around her. They would always be wondering what terrible things she had seen that she wasn’t telling them. If she did happen to tell them, they would desperately search for ways to prevent the vision from coming to pass, which more often than not was in vain and just served to make them resent her more. Her father’s condemnation of her curse ate away at her. After the accident in fifth year, it became a roar. Sybill would only ever bring misery and misfortune to others. The more she tried to bury her abilities, the more closed off she became. The day she graduated Hogwarts, she rode away on the Express in an empty compartment, with only her cat to keep her company.

She may not make friends easily, but she is not unfriendly. Perhaps distant, but never cold. She genuinely cares for others, even if she isn’t sure how to do right by them. Being surrounded by so much pain in Godric’s Hollow will be a real test to Sybill’s compassion. A platter of biscuits won’t be enough to ease the heartache felt by those who’ve lost everything. If she had done more, could she have prevented some of the tragedy? Her father had always told tales of how Cassandra brought misery and destruction when she unleashed her sight, but Sybill had done far worse by locking it away. Her guilt will not pass easily and will eat away at her until she can find someone to trust who can help her through it.

+Sybill is resilient. She could fog her mind and keep the visions at bay, but she refuses. She believes that she was given the sight for a reason, and that day Arabella found her was it. Sybill believes that she was always meant to prophesize the fall of the Dark Lord and now it is her duty to help keep the child safe. It’s why she’s come to Godric’s Hollow. Though a deceptively capable witch, she has no interest in war strategy and little stomach for battle.

-Sybill is often condescending. In school, things came so easily to her that it would baffle her that anyone could struggle or need her help with test questions. She just could not understand how people might have struggled with simple charms or potions. Her sight and ability to make predictions gave her insights to the manners of thinking of her peers and so she couldn’t understand how people might mis-read others. When her classmates would come to her for love advice or for answers to their homework, Sybill would often lose patience. It was all so simple - how did they not get it? For a time, she was forced to be a tutor in an attempt to get her to learn a little empathy and to make her a little less haughty, but it could only end badly, which it did.

+Sybill is reverant. She has a great deal of respect for her gift and for time itself. Though not common, she’s seen visions change midway through their playback and the outcome be completely different than what appeared to be the path at the start. She’s had the feeling of a vision float in the back of her mind, refusing to come into focus until moments before the event pass and then overheard a participant breathe a sigh of relief, stating “I had absolutely no idea how I was going to handle that!” She overall is a very respectful person. When she came to Godric’s Hollow, she first walked slowly through the town, breathing in the despair and heartache until she felt it. Stopping in her tracks, there was a house on the right. Pristine, except for a blown-out bay window that overlooked the destroyed garden. At that moment, she knew she’d found it - where she was supposed to be. While there are those who balk at her and call her disrespectful for taking up residence in the abandoned dwelling, it’s quite the opposite. It’s a house that has experienced such great love and loss that to simply abandon it and allow it to decay would be doing it a disservice. It’s not and never will be her’s. She is simply its caretaker. No one is coming back to claim it; she knows this. But she can’t let it fade away.

-Sybill is spiteful. She doesn’t get past slights easily. A lot of it comes from embarrassment of not always seeing the betrayal coming. The more blind-sighted she is, the harder it is for her to forgive. She forgave most of her school friends for their abandonment of her. She nearly always saw it coming and could understand why they did it. It was the kids who knew nothing about her but turned mean and cold that she couldn’t forgive. The kids who never appeared in any of her visions, who she had no reason to suspect, who suddenly turned on her - those were the betrayals that hurt the worst. When she was an adult, the hurt mostly came from those who still didn’t understand. Those who thought a seer in a dusty shop on Knockturn Alley would stop the war. They came wearing their mourning robes, throwing Sybill’s tea in her face and screaming that she ought to have told them - told them that their son was next. She should have told them not to let him go off by himself that day. She should have warned them that he was going to be snatched - that their family would be made an example of by the Death Eaters. She understands their pain and she tries to forgive it, but it hurts her too. Their blame hurts and is unfair. They’re adults - by now they should understand how this works (there’s that condescension again).

how has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?

Compared to a great many others, Sybill has gotten off light and she knows this. Her family escaped being casualties of war by instead succumbing to completely natural calamities. If the Death Eaters know the source of the prophecy they fear, they haven’t considered her important enough to do anything about. That isn’t to say that she’s unscathed. Sybill has lost her friends. She’s lost any hope of making a significant connection with another person. She dreads the visions that come to her, showing her flashes of violence and misery. She is surrounded all day by death and sadness and that’s certainly taken a toll on her mental well-being. She maintains a dramatic and sometimes playful air, but it’s a desperate clinging to simpler times.

where does this character currently stand? with those who wish to hide in godric’s hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? Why?

Honestly, Sybill stands with those who want to rebuild. She doesn’t understand how they can just hide until the war is over, when the Order is the only cohesive group fighting the Death Eaters. In her mind, if the war is ending and they’re hiding, then it’s only over because Voldemort has won. At that point, she fears that everyone will be too defeated (literally and figuratively) to resume fighting. If they don’t start getting their act together and begin striking back, then there will be no coming back.

But she never says any of this. Sybill is not a member and doesn’t feel that her opinion matters. She isn’t a strategist. She isn’t a warrior. She would be arguing for other people to do the fighting and she knows that isn’t fair. So for now, she keeps her mouth shut. She avoids vocally taking a side and she focuses on getting everyone somewhat settled in. She fixes up the home she has taken over as “caretaker” and she helps others do the same.

Has Sybill had any new visions since arriving in Godric’s Hollow?

No, I don’t believe that she has. It’s only been a few weeks since she’s relocated. While it’s true that she can’t prevent herself from having visions (not without powerful concoctions that she hasn’t taken since she was forced to as a child), she has been trying her hardest to make herself preoccupied by throwing herself into repair projects around the town. With everyone else reeling from the events from the past few months and walking on eggshells, Sybill doesn’t want to rock the boat with an untimely vision. But she can feel them brewing. She can feel them just on the edge of her sight, not quite in focus, but gaining form with each passing day.

Does she think she can help the Order, or does she believe her visions will only hurt?

Sybill wants to help the Order. She thinks she can help the Order. But she knows that her visions will only hurt - they already have. If it weren’t for her vision, Godric’s Hollow would still be a cozy village filled with witches and wizards of all ages. If it weren’t for Sybill’s visions, there wouldn’t have been such a massacre. The Order would not be in such a ruinous state and the war wouldn’t be stuck in some standstill threatened with mutually assured destruction if the fighting should continue on like this.

But as much as she blames her visions, they’re a part of her. They’re who she is and she wouldn’t change for anything - not even peace and an end to this bloody conflict. They all know that the boy will be the downfall of Voldemort. It’s just a matter of time and keeping the boy safe. In that capacity, Sybill is determined to help the Order. It was her prophecy that started this, it’s her responsibility to see it through.

extra

I wasn’t sure I’d be applying for Sybill, so I went ahead and tried to get a feel for her with the “if I were…” questionnaire. In my mind, she’s incredibly complex and loves the melodrama associated with seers

if i were a god/goddess, i’d be Hanuman - the Hindu deity of perseverance, service, and scholarly devotion, he aided Lord Rama in his battle against evil forces. After the things you’ve seen and witnessed, it would easy to admit that father was right - that you’re cursed and a bringer of dark tidings and misery. But you refuse to give up. You wrap yourself in another shawl and you persevere. Though great, you resist the temptation to give up and fog your mind or dull the senses as father made you do so many years ago.

if i were a season, i’d be false spring - the weather is on the upswing, the snow and ice have melted. The mud is thick, and grass will appear any day now. But up above, the sky is a deep blue and the wind has a biting chill to it that can only mean an impending freeze. Take the plants back inside and gather the firewood. These good tidings never last long.

if i were a time of day, i’d be early dawn, when the dew clings to grass and spiderwebs and a fog sits in the field - the day has barely begun and there’s still plenty of time for a few surprises.

if i were a place, i’d be the hidden reading nook in the dusty bookshop you didn’t know was still open - quiet, dark, but with a hidden hope and optimism.

if i were a type of weather, i’d be an oppressively hot day in summer - though scared of the power within, there is no denying its intensity. The opposition was given its first real taste of it and it made them desperate and overly aggressive. They paid a heavy price for their arrogance and there’s no telling what more tales of the future could do.

if i were a scent, i’d be coffee and whiskey mingling with an uplifting haze of sandalwood.

if i were a plant, i’d be a wisteria - beautiful in its blossoms, it appears delicate, but is incredibly resilient and can be poisonous.

if i were an element, i’d be earth - grounded and steady but intensely dramatic and moving.

if i were a color, i’d be a dark slate blue - haunted yet calming.

if i were a song, i’d be The Chain - your father promises that if you would just stop this foolishness, everything will be better. He isn’t mad at you, he still loves you, but you make it so damn hard when you carry this burden and insist on growing it instead of stamping it out. But he doesn’t realize that this thing that you have isn’t a burden. It isn’t a curse. It’s who you are. And if he can’t love you in spite of it, then, well… he never really loved you and never will.

if i were an item of clothing, it’d be a shawl - you cover yourself and who you really are. You bury yourself in the smooth fabric and become what they want you to be. You pull the silk over your nose and breathe in, letting it filter out the perfumed ash that hangs heavy in the air, the kind you’re supposed to sit in, as if that helps your inner eye see their futures better.

if i were an object, i’d be a candle - so smooth and solid from a distance, but covered in a thin layer of ash and brimming with uncertainty. A giver of light to illuminate the darkness, but reveals and strengthens the shadows in the process.

if i were one of the seven deadly sins, i’d be sloth - the fear of the known and the inability to stop it, leading to inaction. It is said that evil thrives when the good fail to act. When faced with visions of the future, it’s so much easier to forget it and move on.

if i were one of the seven heavenly virtues, i’d be humility - a deep respect and subservience to the nature of time. There are things that will always come to pass and others that are far more fickle - how do you know which is which? How do you know what won’t be made the worse with your meddling?

[mafiabosstsuna]

Prompt 1: Dino visits his s/o in psychiatric hospital and they talk about their future.

I’m really unsure of this first prompt and I apologize if there are any misinformation or mistake as I’ve come over a lot of information and sometimes almost none while searching. I changed it from the first writing, to be at least more realistic and again I apologize if I offend anyone. That’s never my intention. -Admin Lambo

It was cold. The rain that has stopped towards the morning refreshed the air along with a silence that followed, with only raindrops that were free falling from the rooftops and trees making silent noise. It was a small town and the quietness of people comforted, and calmed, anyone that wished for peace.

Reaching out a hand, you looked up into grey sky that covered the usual blue clearness. Remaining still, your hair were blown by the wind as you stood on a bridge, leaning on fence, wearing nothing but a pale blue dress that reached your knees and no shoes. If you were cold, you were hiding it well.

"[Name]," A male voice called from the side.

Turning your head to the side, a smile spread over your lips. "Dino," You called and took a step away from the fence before running to him and wrapped arms around his neck. "I missed you..." You whispered.

Dino smiled gently as he embraced you in a tight hug before looking behind, seeing Romario standing few meters away. His eyes showed worry. Dino gave an assuring smile and pulled away, holding you for shoulders. Your eyes met and he could see the sparkle that he always loved to see.

"There’s something I must speak with you about.” He held your hands and looked at them, spotting a ring on your left ring finger. It was a simple white golden ring with five diamonds on top. He went over it with his finger before his eyes fell on his own white golden ring he had on his left hand. Raising his gaze once more to meet your eyes, his smile appeared back.

"What is it?" You asked in soft voice, worry seen in your eyes.

"Let's get you somewhere warm first." He replied instead before he took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. He could see your shoulders slumped down, relaxing against his warm approach.

They walked towards his car, Romario opening the doors and before they sat inside, you looked at Dino's right hand man. You quietly stared at him, Romario returned it with a puzzled look, unsure what to do. "Signora," He spoke, lowering his head instead.

You stared at him for a while more before you smiled brightly. "Thank you for looking after Dino, Romario." You said and lowered your head.

The man looked at you in surprise, but warmly smiled. "It’s my job to look after him." He replied and looked at his boss, who sweat dropped, feeling like he wasn't even there.

Holding a cup of warm tea, your eyes stared at it before you raised your head and looked at Dino. Smiling softly, Dino returned it in a matter of seconds, before it faded, wondering how to tell you the news. Seeing his worry and feeling his uneasiness, you put cup on table and reached out for his hands that were resting on table.

"Dino," You called with soft voice, your hair falling over shoulders. "What is troubling you?" You tilted head to the side, wondering.

Dino laughed bitterly and averted his gaze for the first time. "I’m leaving Italy." He started slowly and quietly. "My tutor asked me to come to Japan again, to talk about the alliance with the future Vongola boss." He looked at you, who still stared at him with same expression. "I don't want to leave you alone..." He stammered. "Would you like to come with me?" He asked.

Your eyes widened at his question. "To Japan?" You repeated and once receiving a nod, you furrowed your eyebrows. "But I don't know Japanese." You were confused. "How would I talk with them when our language is different?"

Dino chuckled. "Don't worry," He raised your hands and kissed top of your knuckles, your cheeks heating up in no time. "You being by my side is all I need." He said and looked at the approaching nurse.

"I apologize for disrupting your meeting, Don Cavallone," The nurse spoke softly. "Signora [Name] needs to take her medication." She said.

"Of course," Dino nodded and released your hands.

You quietly stared at the nurse, who handed you a medicine, before you took it with water the nurse brought along. Opening your mouth, to show you drank it, the nurse smiled once more and walked away satisfied. Looking back at Dino, you smiled.

"[Name]...” He spoke in warning tone when you put handkerchief in front of your mouth.

"I’m fine, Dino." You said and put it beside on table after looking around. "I want to leave this place. It’s suffocating me more than ever…” You closed your eyes and in a second Dino held your face, his brown eyes staring into yours, pain clearly visible on his.

"Don't talk like that…” He whispered. "I will talk with your doctor and take you with me to Japan." He sadly smiled. "But you need to promise me you won't do it again." His smile disappeared. "Promise me, mi amore…”

You quietly stared into his eyes before you nodded. "Anything for you." You smiled, Dino's lips turning in a wide smile.

He kissed you on forehead. "Thank you..." He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on yours.

Closing your eyes, your chest tightened with guilt spreading like a wildfire, making it harder to breathe. You knew it wasn't good to not taking medication, but you didn't want to feel numb on purpose, like you were drugged. You wanted to feel, wanted to laugh, cry, yell and smile freely. But you also knew, as you could see and feel, Dino was blaming himself more. You didn't want to see the sadness and regret on his face anymore. You wanted to see him smile like he used to when you were children.

"I suggest you take your medication, Signora [Name], or we will have a serious talk." The doctor stared at the you, telling you he knew of your little rebellion.

"I will." You nodded.

"I only remained silent because I saw you were getting better, though as a doctor, I should have never done that." He let out a sigh before looking at Dino, who was puzzled, having no idea what to do, less alone what to say. "I’ve known about Signora's little mischief for a week, especially after she started smiling every time a nurse approached her." He shortly explained.

Dino's eyes widened and he looked at you. "You’ve been doing that for a week?" He asked.

Letting out a nervous chuckle, you looked away, murmuring a quiet: "Sorry…”

The doctor sighed and shook with head before speaking once more. "Everything is now fine." Dino looked back at him, ready to argue, but he overtook him; "I’ve been observing her closely ever since and I haven't seen anything that could endanger her or the rest of patients. It was clearly seen she was getting better."

"You could have lost your job." Dino argued, worry seen in his eyes.

You bit your lower lip and stared at your hands, moreover at your ring. "Dino…” You whispered his name and looked at him, holding his left hand. Dino looked back at you and he immediately relaxed. "If it makes you feel better, then I will continue to take medication." you said determined. But it also made you feel guilty, for making him show an expression you despised to see.

Dino let out a sigh. "That is not what I meant…” He said and caressed your hand, giving it a slight squeeze. "I’m angry and worried about your well-being and doctor Benedetto could lose his job if his higher-ups found out about this. Not to mention I wouldn't be able to see you as they would send you to the isolation room and I know you hate that place…”

You lowered her gaze. "I’m sorry…” You whispered.

“It’s alright,” Dino caressed your cheek and pressed a kiss on your temple. "All that matters to me is that you’re well." He looked back at doctor, who was fondly smiling at them. "I was wondering if she could go on longer trips?" He asked, changing the topic.

The doctor looked at papers on his lap, speaking: "For the last few months she was getting better and helped other patients. I spoke to higher-ups regarding her leave and they agreed together to release her months prior as a reward for her well-being." He looked at Dino. "She can go on a trip, but be aware if she has mood swings or any kind of different action. As you’ve seen for yourself, she could throw a tantrum, but I believe it won't come to it anymore. Not to mention, different air will also help her to get better."

The corners of your lips turned up in a smile as you leaned your head on Dino's shoulder, who smiled warmly. "Thank you, Mr Benedetto." He bowed with head. "Thank you for everything."

"It’s my job as a doctor to help people as much as I can." He responded. "And it was a pleasure to work with Signora [Name]. She’s a hardworking person, and stubborn on times..." He laughed, Dino following seconds later.

"That she was always..." He agreed and caressed you hand before holding it tightly.