#( i stole an artifact from childe to boost it up a little more but i think it's back to farming )

[daybreakrising]

i dropped a small amount of £££ and got neuvi his weapon finally. thank fuck for early 5* pulls

it is now however almost time to take the dog out so i haven't managed any writing yet, but i'm gonna dive into it later \o/

[ramblingsthebookblog]

Book Review: The Whispering Skull by Jonathan Stroud

Why do I want to get pints with the skull 

Five Stars

‘The Whispering Skull ‘ is the second book in the Lockwood & Company series. Named so for the mysterious skull that George stole from the Fittes agency when he left. At the end of ‘Screaming Staircase’ Lucy discovered that not only can the skull talk, she can communicate with it.

The book opens with the gang doing what they do best...investigating hauntings. 

 Lockwood, Lucy and George are good at what they do and are better than all their rivals because they can think outside the box. In saying that our trio are, to use an irish phrase, incredibly cack handed. It’s part of the reason why the characters are so great. They’re brilliant at what they do but they aren’t slick.  Let’s go tackle a haunting at a spooky house? Feck it, burn the house down. Is that a wraith? Throw ALL the shit at it. I love them. 

After George messes up a bit of research, the trio lose an investigation to Kipps and his minus craic gang of ghost hunters at the Fittes agency. 

Have I talked about Kipps? He’s in his twenties and is an adult supervisor to the child investigators at Fittes. Because he’s an adult he no longer possess the Talent needed to investigate and fight ghosts. It’s obvious that, at one point, he was quite a talented investigator himself. 

Despite the fact that Kipps is in his twenties, and a grown ass man, he is incredibly hung up on boosting his fragile male ego by getting into fights with teenagers. Unlike most millennials he’s got a job for a life, a secure income and will never have to work a zero hour contract job in his life. Some might dine out on that for life but no, the man insists on being a douche. 

 Slightly humiliated from their loss, George issues a challenge to Kipps. The next time they go toe to toe they’ll fight it out for the top spot. The loser must post an advert in the newspaper saying the other agency is the best agency. Kipps, still not mature enough to just say ‘No, mate, I’m going home to watch Netflix. You carry on,’ agrees. 

All the action kicks off when the trio are on another job to help seal a mysterious coffin. There’s a bit of mishap and George gets sight of an object in the coffin that spooks him cold. The same object is later stolen by grave robbers. When it comes to pass that the stolen artifact is incredibly dangerous, DEPRAC tells Lockwood & Co and Fittes to work together to find it. Because of their bet...that doesn’t happen. 

In Whispering Skull Stroud does a great job of balancing humour alongside horror. The back story made my stomach turn a wee bit. The ‘Bone Glass’ is genuinely creepy. It was a great plot device to introduce us to the wider world around Lockwood & Co like DEPRAC and the smuggling underground. 

We get introduced to some brilliant new characters in this book.  Who loves Flo? Raise your hand. We stan a girl who spends her days hunting through mud in the Thames to find dead bodies for cash. She’s a great addition to the series and I hope we get to see her again. 

Indeed, Whispering Skull’s biggest strength is its focus on character development. Poor George is at the heart of this. It’s obvious that Lucy’s presence in the gang has left him feeling a bit left out. His mishap with Kipps leaves him questioning his abilities. Lucy and Lockwood, too caught up in themselves, don’t seem to notice that their friend is suffering because of his incident with the bone glass. 

Our girl Lucy is settling into Lockwood & Co nicely. She’s still as kick ass as ever and just as brash. Because of her new found ability to talk to the skull, we really get to see just how powerful she is. 

It’s so obvious that Lucy has it bad for Lockwood. And that Lockwood is completely oblivious. Those two.  I ship it, reader. I was delighted to discover the existence of #lucewood the other day. Like all YA books I fully expect this romance to be a slow burn that will drive me mad. Big shout to George, who obviously ships it too. Every time his mates play dumb he does the literary equivalent of looking at the camera 

Lucy though...I adore her, but we need to acknowledge her flaws. She’s head strong, brave and tough. She also needs a clip round the ear sometimes. Thanks to her insecurities, and her own lack of confidence, she is incredibly stand offish when it comes to new characters, particularly girls. She admits herself that she has no female friends. It’s disappointing to see. 

Listen, internalised misogyny is a thing. Society teaches girls that there’s only one way to be a woman while at the same time telling them that girls are stupid, silly and pathetic. Girls learn to hate themselves from a young age and we often turn that hate on each other. I was a little like Lucy when I was a girl but, thankfully with age, learned to wise up. I really hope Lucy gets over this. 

And as for Lockwood, I spent most of the first book going, ‘You are hiding something boo boo’ and, thank goodness, Whispering Skull tackles that head on. I find it hard to pin down Lockwood. He’s a genuinely likable character but he’s so mysterious that, at times, he comes across a insincere. I was glad to see the skull ( my new fav), quite blatantly point this out.  

So, the Skull. We finally learned its back story, though what it is and what it’s up to is still up for debate. The skull seems to be able to predict the future and....give relationship advice? It’s like a haunted Dear Deidre with sass. Thanks to Lucy’s abilities the skull has become an permanent addition to the Lockwood team, coming with them on hauntings and helping them out with investigations. Its quips lead to some of the books funniest moments. While the gang try and figure things out it hangs about in the background like a snarky commentator. Its depressing outlook on life coupled with its hilarious desire would make me book a second date. It would be great craic down the pub. More please. 

Despite its rather ominous warning at the end of book one...the skull didn’t elaborate any further on the whole ‘death thing.’ The book ended on us all learning something more about Lockwood but he’s still just as mysterious as ever. 

This is an excellent follow up to The Screaming Staircase. I need more adventures with my ghost hunting babies. On to the Hollow Boy.

[selenelavellan]

Wizarding World AU

(This is a separate AU from the Hogwarts AU, let’s clear that up right now)

Dirthamen, Falon’din, Pride, and Uthvir are @feynites

Ana is @lycheemilkart‘s

Victory (mentioned) is @justanartsysideblog‘s

It had been ten years since Dirthamen's twin brother had vanished.

Ten years since the world had declared Falon'din dead and gone, destroyed in an instant by an unknown magic.

Thirteen years since Dirthamen had turned his back on the people that raised him. Publicly denounced them and the way they used magic, refusing to assist his brother in his plans. Well, their mothers plans really. Twisted and shifted to fit Falon'dins particular brand of cruelty, and terrifyingly effective when implemented.

Thirteen years since Dirthamen had become a father. Since he and Selene had married and settled down in their cottage. Small and cramped, a victim of their financial distresses. But it was their home, and his old family could not find them here (An unlikely scenario with the lot of them locked away in Azkaban, but not one he would put past them all the same).

Six years since he had managed to gain a career working for the ministry of magic. Not publicly, of course. The wizarding world would call for his immediate resignation if word got out that the twin of the Dark Lord Falon'din were working in the Department of Mysteries. But they had had little choice but to hire him, after several years of failed attempts to decipher the artifacts found in his old family home.

Dirthamen had never been very talented at curses, he knew. But wards and protection spells; those he was rather clever with.

More clever than his mother, it had turned out.

He had felt guilt, leaving Selene alone at home to watch the twins when they were born, bringing their total child count so far to four. But she had assured him she could handle it, that she and their children would be fine, and she would still continue her work in the arithmancy field; just a bit slower than she had been.

It had worked out well so far; Selene was able to put out about one book every two years, and it always pulled in a tidy sum to take care of leaking roofs and school supplies and even to mange to leave a few galleons in their Gringotts account at the end of the month.

And then a month ago, his dreams had turned sour.

His brothers face and voice back to plague him, calling him a traitor and a coward and screaming all too familiar threats towards him and his family.

Dirthamen knew Falon'din had not died ten years ago. He had not felt the pull or the ache that should have accompanied it. But the world had seemed so relieved, a day of parties and merriment and celebration when he had disappeared. Dirthamen did not wish to ruin that happiness for everyone.

Now though, with two of his children preparing to go back to school and the voice of his brother still ringing in his ears each morning, it was difficult to feel at ease.

“Ana and Pride stole the car,” Selene sighs over breakfast, sliding a plate of eggs down in front of him and each of the twins; too young for such hi-jinks, so far.

“Which one?” Dirthamen asked. In truth, they were not supposed to have any cars. But Melanadahl in the Misuse of Magical Artifacts department was often interested both Dirthamen and Selenes input on the more curious cases that passed by; a lingering habit from their own days in school, he supposes.

“The one you rigged to fly,” Selene says, shooting him her familiar 'that thing you knew you weren't supposed to do but did anyway while I looked the other way and now the children have found it' look. “Likely they went to pick up Uthvir from their home. They haven't received replies to even a single letter all summer.”

Dirthamen nods in understanding. It is often difficult to get messages out when your family disapproves of sending them. It is a problem familiar to him from his own childhood, when Falon'din would frequently try to poison or harm Dirthamens own owl, or those his friends sent to him until they decided the risk was not worth being his friend.

There is a loud crashing noise from the front yard that pulls him out of his memories, Selenes head snapping towards the front door. She strides towards it, head high, swinging the door open and huffing down at their oldest children.

“Pride, Ana, you two are in so much trouble! Do you have any idea how worried I've been? What if you'd been injured, or spotted?!” She cries. Selenes face softens as she places a gentle hand on Uthvirs head and gives them one of her warmest smiles “Hello Uthvir dear, it's good to see you. I'll have the pancakes finished in just a minute, why don't you go have a seat at the table?”

Uthvir nods slowly, looking briefly at Ana and Pride before sitting down at the table farthest from Dirthamen's own seat. He is aware of their discomfort around him, and cannot blame them; his brother had attacked them when they were only an infant, after all. It is a wise survival instinct to avoid him, he supposes, although he would never purposely cause them harm.

Selene continues berating Ana and Pride for borrowing the car, even as she makes them plates of eggs and pancakes, with blueberries and bananas on top of Ana's and whipped cream with chocolate chips for Pride. Uthvirs own stack is twice the size of theirs (And Dirthamen is not surprised; Selene has mentioned her concerns over how thin they are beneath the multiple layers and robes they wear to conceal it, and often gives them larger portions than is wholly necessary, often taking a smaller piece for herself) and she lays out several bowls with extra toppings on the table for them to choose from, placing several strawberries on top of her own to show that it is alright to do so. She finally stops lecturing Ana and Pride, carefully placing a single pancake on each of the twins plates before taking her own seat at the table.

It is a good meal, Ana and Prides moods quickly improving from Selenes speech to share the events of the summer with Uthvir; quidditch rankings and major news stories, as well as a classmate of theirs that has apparently 'bounced back' from a rather poorly thought out transfiguration prank during their last year.

They are all standing to bring their dishes to the kitchen when a stream of owls comes in through the windows, dropping off letters for Ana, Pride, and Uthvir in a dark green ink; class and supply lists for the upcoming year.

“Well, at least they know you're here with us Uthvir,” Selene smiles, handing them their letter. “I suppose we should make a trip to Diagon Alley today, if you're alright with it.”

Uthvir, caught off guard with pancake still in their mouth, simply nods in agreement after a failed attempt to swallow.

“Mom,” Pride calls “Do you still have any copies of your second Arithmancy book?”

“Of course,” She nods, whisking the empty plates through the water running in their sink with her wand. “Why do you ask?”

“It's one of my textbooks.”

“Mine too!” Ana pipes up.

Selene blinks, dishes freezing in midair “Really?” she calls as she dashes back to the table. “That's wonderful! One less book we have to buy, and it means a sales boost from the others in your class purchasing it, too. Goodness, we might finally be able to get that new bed-One moment, they're up in the attic.”

She disappears up the stairs, as Darevas giggles and flings a spoonful of scrambled eggs into Prides hair. Pride groans, moving towards the mirror to pick the flecks of egg out of his braids while Selene reappears at the base of the stairs, three hardbound copies of her second book on Arithmancy in hand.

“Now I wasn't sure if you needed one as well Uthvir,” She admits, handing one to each of her children “But if you aren't taking it already and decide to next year, this'll give you a leg up on it. Arithmancy is fascinating really, one of the most interesting classes offered at Hogwarts-”

“Uh...Mom?” Ana squeaks, holding up her copy of the book and pointing to a scribble in the bottom right hand corner of the page. It appears to be someone in the middle of a rather lewd act, and-ah, yes. Someone has made a flip book in the corners of her book.

It is not difficult to discern precisely who the culprit was.

Selene's face turns a rather interesting shade of red as she marches back up the stairs, screaming “Des!”

Dirthamen carefully takes Prides book from him, even as he is trying to discern the exact nature of the act by turning it to different angles, and sets it down beside him. It appears to have been done recently, so it should be simple to remove with a basic cleaning charm.

It is not the first time their ghost has pulled pranks like these, although they usually do not make such blatantly sexual pranks where the children can see them. Dirthamen supposes Des did not expect her to give the books to Ana and Pride or Uthvir; a mistake he can hear her yelling at him for even from here.

Des's ghost floats down to the table, a bored look on his face as he reclines in Selenes seat “Really, she's overreacting,” he tsks. “It's not like the pictures are moving on their own, and it's soft-core at most.”

“It is still inappropriate,” Dirthamen chides. “Please do not put any sort of pornography where the children might see it.”

“Oh fine,” Des sighs. “I'll just keep it all in your bedroom then.”

Pride makes a grossed out face, his tongue protruding from his mouth as Dirthamen corrects their resident ghost “That is unnecessary. Selene and I do not require pornography, we are quite skilled at coming up with our own scenarios and interactions.”

“Dad!” Pride cries indignantly as Ana turns a red deep enough to match her hair and covers her ears.

“What?” Dirthamen asks.

“Don't-Don't talk about that in front of us, please. We just ate!”

“Would it be more appropriate to discuss after our food has settled then?”

“No!”

“You are getting older Pride. We should probably discuss these things soon, before you go off to school this year. If you are uncomfortable talking to me about your sexual growth, your mother is also avail-”

“Please stop talking,” Pride groans, pulling his ponytail of braids and beads down to cover his face and yanking Uthvir out of their chair and up the stairs to his room, nearly pushing Selene out of his way to get there.

Dirthamen looks curiously to Ana, his eldest. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Not really,” Ana assures him. “He's just embarrassed because he has a crush.”

Dirthamen blinks, looking up the stairs where his son had disappeared and then back to his daughter. “On Uthvir?”

Ana laughs. “No. I mean, maybe? Pretty sure it's this girl on the Quidditch team he can't stop staring at though.”

“Pride has a crush?” Selene asks as she re-enters the room just as Des vanishes from it.

“Don't tell him you know,” Ana says “Or else he'll get all weird and defensive about it.”

Selene frowns, but nods in understanding. “Alright. If they become a thing though, I trust you to write home about it.”

Ana nods in agreement, giving each of the twins a kiss on their pancake crumb covered heads before going up the stairs to join Pride and Uthvir.

Selene lets out a tired sigh before practically collapsing into the seat beside Dirthamen. He takes her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of it soothingly. She gives him a tired smile before looking out the front windows at the damaged car on their front lawn.

“I swear, I don't know where those two get their troublesome streak from...” she mumbles.

Dirthamen raises an eyebrow accusingly. “Oh? I seem to recall you being quite the prankster in your own school days. One of the reasons Des followed you home, I imagine.”

“And I've regretted it every day since,” She teases back, loudly enough that the eavesdropping spirit can hear.

Dirthamen shakes his head fondly. “I also remember you also used to sneak Victory into Hogsmeade, when he was having difficulty getting his permission slip signed. Or that time you helped Melanadahl pass his flight class, with those enchanted glasses you made-”

“Well it's cruel to punish children for things that aren't their fault,” Selene points out.

“Precisely,” Dirthamen says. “And it is hardly our childrens fault that they inherited such a strong sense of right and wrong from their mother that they feel the need to act on it to help their friends.”

Selene scoots her chair closer, until she can lean her head on his shoulder “You're very good at turning my parenting flaws into strengths you know.”

“That is one of many things I am here for.”

“Mm-hm,” Selene murmurs. “I suppose it's also not the childrens fault that their father felt the need to enchant a car to fly and conveniently left the keys out all night, either.”

“I was hoping you would not have noticed that,” Dirthamen admits.

“I always notice,” Selene says with a sigh. “I wonder if Uthvir would be open to us adopting them. I know they're a bit older already, and we'd only technically have them for a a few years, but even a few less years with those awful people might do them a whole lot of good...”

“If you wish to discuss it with them, I would not stop you,” Dirthamen assures her with a kiss on top of her hair.

“Mm,” Selene hums. “I'll have to think about it. Maybe send out a few owls with inquiries about how I would even go about it. In the meantime,” she says as she straightens. “We should get ready. We'll need to stop by Gringotts before we can  pick up the school supplies, and Pride's grown out of his robes again so he'll need to be refitted. I was thinking Ana is old enough to care for a pet now, and she's been hinting at wanting a toad, so I'd like to see if we could manage to get her an early birthday present if you're alright with it.”

“I am sure we could make it work,” Dirthamen agrees, standing to push his chair in. “I will clean the twins while you get the others ready.”

“Taking the easy job I see,” Selene jokes, staring at Darevas and Felasel and their egg and pancake coated faces and fingers.

He simply nods as Selene goes to tell the others to get ready, donning her own cloak and bringing his own down, along with the floo powder.

Dirthamen swallows, watching as each of his children goes through the fireplace one by one.

Perhaps this time, if he is very careful and thinks only of positive things, he will not see his brothers face in every dark corner of Diagon Alley. Will not hear him whisper in his ear with each cold burst of wind. And perhaps, if he is very lucky, the scar on his back will not even ache every time the bell tolls.