#Scotland Evander

[virtuouswhitehatorganization]

Blackwood (Villainous Oc)

Name: Bonnie Blackwood 

DOB: April 14

Age: 20's chronologically;  50's biologically 

Sexuality: Straight

Residence:  Glasglow, Scotland 

Love Interest: Dario Polo 

Relatives: Evander Blackwood (father) ; Effie Blackwood (mother)

Occupation: Bounty Hunter; Superheroine 

Abilities: Superhuman strength, speed, durability, and endurance; Regenerative healing factor; Expert markswoman & swordswoman; Use of mystical bullets; Mystical choker that detects monsters and deaccelerates aging

Ethnicity: Scottish 

Headcannon Voice Actor: Sarah Michelle Gellar (English);  Alessia Becerril (Spanish)

Personality: She has a noted extreme hatred of monsters of any kind and is willing to see them exterminated on the spot. This hatred even has led her to hate even fellow heroes who look monstrous because she believes they can't be trusted.  She tends to take sadistic glee in taking down monsters and proudly displays them. She very much looks up to her parents and is often speaks fondly of them. To fellow humans she is very cordial and polite, but to any non-human she tends to be very unpleasant and suspicious. She is proud of her heritage of monster hunters and gladly will show it off to anyone. 

Background: She was raised in a clan of monster hunters who indoctrinated her into the mindset that all monsters were worthy of death so this colored her view of them. She eventually got interested in PEACE where she joined them since she thought it would expand her monster hunting around the world. She eventually gets into a romance with Dario while teaming up with him to fight cases. They eventually broke up but they are in contact with one another. She also temporarily has his daughter as a sidekick. 

* She is based on Elsa Bloodstone and Buffy the Vampire slayer. 

* She was close friends with Airlock until she was thrown into space. 

* Her parents are retired from monster hunting but still get into it for the occasion. Due to slow aging, they look more like they are in their 50's than 40's. 

* Green Rod has mixed feelings about her due to her extreme hatred of monsters even if some heroes are categorized as monsters. 

* She often waivers on how to treat aliens. She hates aliens who look more monstrous. 

* She gets really ticked that Green Rod eventually dates Coyote due to seeing dating a monster even someone like a nuclear zombie as taboo. 

* She mounts the heads of monsters she's killed on her wall. 

* Her arch nemesis is Fempire. 

* The chocker is made from magical metal. 

* Next to Clone Commander she is a superhero that Green Rod really doesn't want to be team up with again due to her prejudice. 

* She curses a lot. 

* She has a thick Glaswegian accent. 

Created through picrew.me/en/image_maker/20121…

[mortalisla]

Isla did not want to come to this. After panicking about where Evander is and figuring out that he was safe, she decides to give it a brave try. She is clearly on-edge, especially since Davhy isn't present. But at least she looks good. She picked out nothing that she is wearing but her mothers' both used to say that purple was their favorite color on her and she was always a huge butterfly fanatic as a child. The pearls are also something she owns, jewelry from Scotland.

[presidentroarie]

Thanks Esme!!

Relationship status: Single

Favorite color: Teal and Lavender

Favorite food: Chinese food from this restaurant in my hometown, specifically sweet and sour chicken (without the sauce), white rice, and won- ton soup.

Last thing I googled: ao3

Dream trip: I wanna hit up Wales, Ireland, and Scotland, though Romania would be cool too.

Tagging!! @spaceagebachelormann @literaturewithliz @synonymroll648 @lucian-evander @mystic-monster (leaving this here bc I finally found your name but just so you know I didn't forget you <3 ->)Clem I can't remember your username right now I'm googling it but you're tagged too. And anyone else who wants in.

Tag People you want to get to know better

Thank you for the tag @fairytales-and-folklore !!

Relationship status: single and I hope to be for the rest of my life baby! non-partnering aro rights woo-hoo 🥳

Favorite color: aqua has been my long time favorite, I could live in it (and I sort of do)

Favorite food: idk… maybe strawberries?

Last thing I googled: “i’m a luxury sweater” for this art I posted yesterday

Dream trip: really want to visit Tokyo one day, both for the city itself and to visit my lovely long distance friend who lives there

I’m tagging (if you want to) @theres-got-to-be-more @agrebel18 @discogirlirl @woorenergy

[arcanglsofpiri]

@evanderofscots‌

~ location: scotland

It would be the first time Eunae been in Scotland. She didn't go with her father the first time he went. She had heard from her father the gossip of the west; mainly about the new prince. The emperor brought over his children. The princess-like her other siblings went off on her own in the castle.

The second princess was in awe with the architecture of the castle. Was much different than the palace back home. Shivering, holding onto herself from the cold. Not even her heavy hanbok could keep her warm.

Wandering around the courtyard mindlessly strolling around. Eunae lost in thought, as always. The second princess not even seeing the man very clearly in front of her. Bumping into him, blinking her brown doe eyes, coming back to reality. "I am so sorry. I wasn't paying attention," she apologized, giving the man a small pout.

[historiclives]

As much as Augustus wished this mission of goodwill and peace could be limited to simply making a few appreciative noises over the new baby prince and extending well wishes to the King and Queen, but of course that wasn't all there was to it. There were meetings to attend, events to discuss, there was more than simply smiling to ensure a prosperous relationship between countries and Augustus was glad that his mother was also present so that he could share the duties of making nice with her.

If he thought it wise, Augustus likely would have left this meeting to her, but there were certain tasks that he couldn’t push off on his mother and wouldn’t try. He wasn’t a child and therefore he was on time for his scheduled meeting with Evander Makenzie, a man whose reputation proceeded him and who Augustus felt disinclined to like. But personal feeling didn’t have any place in official business and so Augustus kept his face smooth as he finally met with the man. “It certainly seems like things are going well for your country,” Augustus said mildly to the chancellor, not certain just how useful this meeting would be. @evanderofscots​

[georgetstuart]

&&. is that ( danny griffin )?? no, it’s just ( george thomas evander stuart ). he is a ( prince ) of ( scotland ). he is ( 23 ) years old and his birthday is the ( 30 ) of ( may ) which makes him a ( gemini ).  he is ( honest and loyal ) and ( carefree and insecure ) but, unfortunately, also (  immature and self-indulgent ). those traits just make him a ( gryffindor ) and in scientific terms an ( entp ). he is ( bisexual ) and the plaza’s ( elven king ).  his theme song is ( crazy frog ) by ( axel f ). his interests include ( milfs and coke ). he practices ( atheism ) and is a supporter of ( scottish labour party ). his quirk is ( being a weirdo ) and favourite quote is ( they're taking the hobbits to isengard ) by ( legolas greenleaf ) because ( they really did take the hobbits to isengard ). last but not least he ( does ) believe in true love.

personality traits: flippant, insecure, immature, free-spirited, frank, stubborn, vulnerable, caring, irresponsible, charismatic, selfish.

tw: drugs, overdose, death

Mommy Issues™

george was given more freedom than his sisters which he took as a lack of care. he developed a serious case of youngest child syndrome: attention-seeking, self-centred and spoiled. he’s a cliché tbh. 

widely known as a troublemaker, but cheeky enough to remain likable. george is a nonconformist through and through -- he wants nothing to do with tradition and convention. 

school was a place where he could explore those ideas and think independently - he loved it! esp bc whatever mess he got into, his fam would fix them for him anyway. 

he likes to travel, party, meet new people. the further away from high society, the better

the news of effie’s betrothal sparked talks of shifting her responsibility onto him and it made him spiral

an unfortunate night in berlin resulted in the death of his best friend by overdose. george has no recollection of the night but in a state of panic he called a family member. as always, they sorted it out for him. 

he retreated back to scotland and laid low for a while, refusing to join the program 

when effie’s betrothal fell through, george decided he wasn’t going to sit back and watch, esp when his freedom’s at risk, so he moved to tokyo under the guise of finding a betrothed but he has goals of his own 

full bio: (x)

[insomniac-jay]

Hero Profile #018: Apex

Birth Name: Evan Jordana

Hero Alias: Beastly Hero Apex

Age: 26

Gender: Genderqueer but will say he/him if you ask

Birthday: July 27

Birthplace: Perth, Scotland

Nationality: Scottish

Noticeable Features: Fair skin, long and curly ginger hair, light blue eyes, facial hair, pronounced canines, muscular and stocky build, claws

Quirk: Beast

A Transformation Quirk that allows him to transform into any mythological beast and it includes its appearance and abilities. He can only transform into one beast at a time though and the form only lasts for five hours.

Support Items

Fingerless gloves: A pair of black gloves that protect Evan's hands in combat. After all, he can't function properly in his day to day life without them.

Mask: This is for when he fights opponents that can emit harmful fumes or when rescuing civilians from fires.

Family:

Brodie Jordana: Father

Alexia Jordana (nee Duncan): Mother

Evangeline Jordana: Quadruplet sister

Evander Jordana: Quadruplet brother

Evana Jordana: Quadruplet sister

Known Profession(s): Heroics; Sidekick

Affiliation: MadDog Agency

Paired With: Tetsubasa Ichiki/Iron Angel

Base of Operations: Minamisatsuma

Current Location: Minamisatsuma

Status: Active

@floof-ghostie @calciumcryptid @vuljo @pizzolisnacks @elflynns-horde-of-stuff

[highsocietyhq]

&&. announcing his/her/their royal highness, ( george thomas evander stuart ), the ( 23 ) year old ( prince ) of ( scotland ). he is often confused with ( danny griffin ). some say that he is ( immature and self-indulgent ), but he is actually ( honest and loyal ). ( OOC: KIT / 21 / GMT / THEY/THEM )

[hexandbalances]

Lupercalia pt 1.

ILLUSTRATION BY LABROUSTE DEL., MARY EVANS PICTURE LIBRARY/ALAMY

Chthonic, Apotropaic, Purification, and Fertility

Lupercalia was an annual lustral festival observed in the city of Rome on 15 of Februarius (February). It is described by Plutarch in his 75 CE Romulus:

The Lupercalia, by the time of its celebration, may seem to be a feast of purification, for it is solemnised on the dies nefasti, or non-court days, of the month February, which name signifies purification, and the very day of the feast was anciently called Februata; but its name is equivalent to the Greek Lycaea; and it seems thus to be of great antiquity, and brought in by the Arcadians who came with Evander. Yet this is but dubious, for it may come as well from the wolf that nursed Romulus; and we see the Luperci, the priests, begin their course from the place where they say Romulus was exposed. But the ceremonies performed in it render the origin of the thing more difficult to be guessed at; for there are goats killed, then, two young noblemen's sons being brought, some are to stain their foreheads with the bloody knife, others presently to wipe it off with wool dipped in milk; then the young boys must laugh after their foreheads are wiped; that done, having cut the goats' skins into thongs, they run about naked, only with something about their middle, lashing all they meet; and the young wives do not avoid their strokes, fancying they will help conception and childbirth. Another thing peculiar to this feast is for the Luperci to sacrifice a dog.

There are many important elements to be discussed here, but first we must address a common misconception:

Lupercalia is not the pagan Valentine’s Day.

Pope Gelasius I abolished Lupercalia in 494 CE. There is much uncritical repeating of the myth that Valentine’s Day was instituted in its place, however there is no historical evidence to support this. Pope Gelasius’ letter 100, To Andromachus (found here, regrettably only in Latin), in which observance of Lupercalia is forbidden, makes no mention of Valentine whatsoever. Further, we do not know when celebration of St. Valentine’s martyrdom began, and it is not until 1380 that it is connected to romantic love by Chaucer’s Parlement of Foules. 

But what about the love lottery? The first mention of a match-making lottery administered by the Luperci comes from Alban Butler’s 1756 Lives of the Fathers, Martyrs, and Other Principal Saints (vol 2, FEBRUARY XIV.ST. VALENTINE, PRIEST AND MARTYR.): "To abolish the heathens lewd superstitious custom of boys drawing the names of girls, in honour of their goddess Februata Juno, on the fifteenth of this month, several zealous pastors substituted the names of saints in billets, given on this day." 

This assertion from Butler is transposed from Henri Misson’s M. Misson's Memoirs and Observations in his Travels over England With some Account of Scotland and Ireland.[x] There has been as of yet no evidence found to suggest such a thing took place in Rome.

Nor was Lupercalia replaced with Candlemas. This idea comes from conjecture of Cardinal Caesar Baronius in C16 CE, suggesting that Lupercalia was replaced by the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin (Candlemas). This festival was never celebrated in Rome, however, and the forty-day interval between Christmas and Candlemas means it would have been celebrated no later than February 2.[x]

Lupercalia’s association with Valentine’s Day appears to be the result of a modern desire either to be titillated (Flagellation! Blood! Fertility!) or to provide any explanation at all to questions that we are unable to answer.

I will share my reading regarding the ritualistic importance of each element, the possible origin of the festival, and possible associated deities in an upcoming post.

Khaire 🐺💀🖤

Further reading:

Green, William M.  (1931, January). Lupercalia in the Fifth Century. Retrieved from http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Journals/CP/26/1/Lupercalia*.html

[evanderofscots]

First Impressions || Evander & Erika

EVANDER HAD MADE a long journey from the sea to the Scottish palace. It had taken him 3 weeks from receiving his King’s request in the port at Calais to make the route back to his home soil, but he’d made it eagerly. Evander was quick to accept his friend’s offer, not wanting to leave him stranded in Scotland being circled by the sharks at court. He had always stood by Alasdair’s side when it mattered most, and nothing mattered more than this. Not that the promise of warm, dry chambers and warmer women hadn’t helped. Now as Evander’s carriage pulled up to the palace, he felt a sense of homecoming. As the wagon rolled to a stop, the newly minted Chancellor hopped out, taking in the visage of the stone palace on rolling green marsh. It was not as grand to the eye as the palaces in France, for instance, but Evander knew it held finery inside to sate his every vice. And more importantly, it held his best friend, who had finally heeded his word and taken his throne as King. A smug smile formed on the man’s lips as he looked upon it.

Four more carriages filed in behind Evander’s, laden down with his trunks of clothes as well as imports and spoils of war brought in from the sea for his new King to enjoy. The footmen began unloading the carriages efficiently, and Evander stopped one, watching them walk by with a rare bottle of whiskey. “Put this aside and bring it to me when I see the King.” He instructed and the boy scurried off with a quick nod. As he oversaw the offloading of his riches, another carriage pulled up to the palace, and through the window Evander spotted the flash of women’s lace and rich golden curls between the crack of the curtains. He had no idea who the visitor could be, but he had nothing better to occupy himself and thought what better to do than take this opportunity to give a diplomatic welcome to his King’s home. Evander trotted over to the carriage as it rolled to a stop, waving off the footman after he placed the step stool, replacing him with a hand outreached to help the guest down. “A most gracious welcome to his Majesty’s palace, milady.” He greeted, charisma dripping from his voice.

@morethanatitle​

[morethanatitle]

From Feuding to Friends

In collaboration with @evanderofscots​ read below the cut for full thread.

Erika was starting to head out with Kara to take a stroll around the castle grounds. "Slow down, young one." She said as she pulled the little one to look at her. "We do not run indoors, especially when it is not our castle." Kara groaned. "Yes. I am ruining your fun..." she replied sarcastically. As they kept going, she saw Evander coming from one of the rooms leading into the hallway. "One moment, Kara..." she called out to the girl before turning to him with a curtsy. "Good afternoon, Chancellor. What are your plans this afternoon?"

Evander exited his office that afternon with a pounding headache. He had listened to one of his laird's lament for over an hour about how the termites were destroying all his lumber. How exactly that man expected the crown to help, Evander had no idea, but he was glad to be rid of him and leave the actual handling on Alasdair's desk. Evander heard the giggling of a young girl as he exited into the hallway, and looked up to see the Lady Erika approaching with her charge. He ground his teeth, still feeling the humiliation of their match through the yellowing bruises on his ribs. Still, when she courtsied before him, he was cordial. He bowed his hed as he greeted her, "Milady Erika. A pleasure to see you again." He told her, though the words were somewhat twisted by his displeasure with their history. "I've just finished my duties for the day and was hoping to clear my mind," preferrably with a bottle of whiskey.

“That’s not what you are supposed to call her. You have a deal,” Kara spoke up as she returned to Erika’s side. “Now you need to address him properly too.” Erika replied. Kara rolled her eyes before giving the man a curtsy and muttering. “Good morning, Chancellor.”The older woman patted her head to show approval before turning back to Evander. “Well, we are about to head outside to take a walk. You are more than welcome to join us if you like.” The little girl’s face lit up. “Please join us, Thor!” Erika cleated her throat and have the girl a look to behave. “I hope you can join us, sir.” Erika has been working hard to teach her proper decorum once they were in public.

Evander's eyes traveled down to the child and he grimaced. He had never been fond of children. They were messy and loud and often interrupted at the most inopportune times, and her pointing out Evander's supposed indiscretion only made him dislike her further. But he still turned back to Erika with a smile and said, "Good afternoon, my Commander," He gritted the title out between tight teeth. He was considering politely dismissing the offer, when the Child's declaration caught his attention. He creased his eyebrows and looked from the lass back up to her governess, one eyebrow raised, "Did she just call me a God?" He asked, arrogant mischief dancing in his eyes. He still wished to chase his headache away with whiskey, but he sighed and decided a few minutes outside might do him well, and she would at least provide a pretty sight. He sighed and nodded, "I suppose I can spare myself for a few minutes."

It was hard for Erika not to laugh when she could tell how hard this was for him. She chuckled and shook her head. “She says that you remind her of Thor based on your appearance.” She smiled at him accepting the invitation. “Well, we would be happy with your company.” Kara briskly walked enough, just slow enough to be considered walking but practically running. Erika rolled her eyes in defeat. She couldn’t scold her for following the rules. “So, how are the affairs of Scotland today?” She genuinely wanted to make peace with him. He did put up a good fight, and she was always interested to learn more about fellow army leaders.

Evander took up an even pace next to Erika, arms clasped behind his back. He was happy to see the child run ahead. At least they might be able to speak as adults after all. He snorted unceremoniously at her question. "I'd much rather handle affairs on a field of battle than behind that damned desk. I didna realize being Chancellor would be so... banal." He probably should not have voiced such opinions so openly, but somehow her connection to Svala made him feel as of he could take the same candor with her.

She chuckled at his response. “I can understand that. While I am happy for my position here, I do miss commanding an army. There are clearer strategies in place for tackling a battle than there is battling a stubborn child.” She smiled with him. “It was nice to duel again. It has been quite some time for me, and I appreciated the exercise. I must admit I thought several times throughout that you were going to win. You have been trained well for someone who is used to battling on land.”

Evander understood what she said well enough, although he didn't much see the difference as he had thought more than once that herding soldiers was not much different from handling children. He looked over at her and smiled playfully at her assessment of their duel. "I have trained extensively by land and by sea. I still hold that I might have won if I hadn't gotten so cocky." The one and only time he would ever admit such a thing.

“I knew that would be your weakness, so I kept that in my mind. You are not the first man that has held that weakness when battling me. Most men are cocky when they battle me because I am a woman. But you will never make that mistake with me or any woman.” She smiled playfully back at him. It was shocking to believe he admitted to his cockiness so easily.

He gritted his teeth at her response, but replied flirtatiously, "Well hard be it for any man to keep from getting cocky with a maiden like you pressed against him."

"I definitely saw that at the duel, but I think that cockiness when you had me against you was what caused me to deliver the final blow to your most precious area." She wanted to use the term similar to cockiness, but she didn't want to have someone overhear her.

Evander smirked at her. He could see the teasing glint in her eyes and knew she was not shy about having touched him there as so many other girls might be, and he laughed, "I'll admit I had hoped to have a more enjoyable contact between you and my... cockiness." He scoffed to himself. "But as per our bet, I suppose I shall never know."

She rolled her eyes but smiled to show she was okay with his teasing. "Perhaps, but I would still like to get to know you. It may not be a date, but I have a feeling we have much in common."

He decided he liked this girl. She was unapologetic and confident, and clearly skilled. As much as he wished to bed her, he wouldnt mind calling her his friend. Perhaps it was something about Norwegian woman that they had a knack for gaining his respect. "I am quite fond of your queen," he confided in her, "It would please me to have the same relationship with you as well."

She smiled and nodded. "Well,  you will find we are very similar and yet different at the same time." She chuckled as they left the castle and the sun appeared when they stepped outside. "Now, is there anything you want to know about me?"

Given permission to pry, Evander asked the one question that had played him since their duel. "Where on earth did you learn to fight m"

She had a feeling this was going to be his first inquiry. "When my father was a child, his younger sister was killed when walking home, and he vowed if he ever had daughters that he would teach them to defend themselves. My father started my training, and I enjoyed learning it more than my younger sisters. He helped me get more formal training when I joined the Norwegian army. The more I rose through the ranks, the more training I received."

He nodded thoughtfully at her answer. So she had received both formal and informal training. That offered some explanation to her unexpected skill as he told her, "I've found that informally trained fighters provide challenges of their own. I, myself, learned everything I know here, at the palace. And the rare opponent to have bested me has often been of an informal fighting style." He explained to her, referring mostly to the pirates and bandits he managed on the seas. "And you have the advantage of both."

She nodded as she processed where his training was from. "That is true. I have learned to use both in battle to get the upper hand. That last move I used to win was one of my father's tricks. He called it that 'SING' maneuver because you hit four areas: the solaplex, instep of the foot, the nose, and the groin."

Evander gave a signature Scotish snort to learn the specifics of the move she had used to disable him so quickly he hadn't been sure what had happened. It made much more sense now. "I will have to remember that," he told her, "Although I suspect I will have far less opportunity to use it."

Erika smiled. "It could always be used if you are ever grabbed from behind. I am sure you have  had many chances to use that during your times in the war." She kept the stroll at a decent pace. "How did you come to become a soldier?"

Evander shook his head chuckling, "I'm far too tall for most to attack from behind, lass. And on the occasion someone tries to jump on me, I do as you did to me and throw them over my shoulder." Evander looked out at the horizon, where the child had already run far into the fields ahead of them. That was fine with him. She was not his responsibility. Her next question hit him in a personal spot, despite being so simple. It wasn't something he had talked about much. "Alasdair asked me to, long ago, before he was King. I had lost my wife and he had lost his father. It was the right thing for us at the time."

"I have seen taller men," she said as she assessed before chuckling. Her eyebrow raised at his comment. "You have been married?" He didn't seem like to get married. "How long ago did she pass away?" she was wondering how long he had been a soldier.

Evander laughed at her disbelief and replied, "Much to my dismay. It was not a very amicable union," He explained. "Over 15 years ago now. It was as short lived as it was loathesome."

"An arranged marriage?" She had to admit she was grateful her father never pressured that sort of thing on her or any of her sisters. "You did not get along based on your tone."

Evander nodded as he walked, "My father made the match in hopes that it would bring peace between our Clans, but her father was not so happy when she died birthing my child. I'm afraid 15 years later, there is still not much peace to be found between them." He said all this very matter of factly, no emotion attached. After all, Evander had never cared for his wife or his child, and had fo uh and it a convenience to see them both gone. "I donna have much patience for Scotish women, and they have even less patience for me. In case you hadn't guessed, I'm not much a fan of being told what to do."

Erika gasped when he explained how his wife died. To lose a wife and a child all at once must be horrible, but he seemed almost glad that she was gone? He didn't seem to mourn the child either. "I am so sorry. My sister lost her child when she was halfway through her pregnancy, and she and her husband have never been the same." She nodded in agreement. "I have noticed that a few times."

Evander waved her off, "As I said, I never got along well with my wife. And I've never wanted children. I believe I gained far more than I lost joining Alasdair in the Navy. It was the right place for me."

She stayed silent and looked at Kara down the way. "Stay where I can see you!" she called out to the little one. She thought about Svala and all they went through. "What are your most memorable times in the Navy?"

Evander looked up, considering for a moment. His most memorable moments on the next had been primarily in Alasdair's bed, but he couldn't tell her that. So instead he said, "Perhaps the times we got to watch ships sink. It's a rather stirring sight. Particularly when you've set them aflame yourself."

She nodded and smiled, understanding what he meant. "The satisfying visual of your victory. I can understand this." Erika chuckled.

He smiled, quirking one brow at her. He had never thought about it quite like that, but he supposed it was right. It was always the taste of success which he savored most. Evander watched as the young girl ran up to a group of ladies sunning on the lawn, and asked Erika, "Should she be doing that?" He asked, displeased to see her causing a commotion among the guests of his palace.

She looked over and saw Kara trying to start a conversation with the women that were sitting over there. "They don't seem bothered by her," she replied. The women seemed to chuckle with the young girl. She let the girl have a moment before calling her back over. Kara said a goodbye and got distracted by some of the dogs relaxing. The dogs seemed happy for her attention as she stroked their fur. "Bless her heart. She doesn't have anyone her age to play with. It gets lonely for her sometimes." Her attention went back to her conversation with Evander. "What is your ideal type of battle? Unarmed? Sword? Something else?"

Evander grimaced at her lack of concern with the child's behavior before he let it go, returning his attention to Erika. He question caught him off guard as it wasn't something he had considered before. "I canna say," he responded, deeper hints of his Scottish accept revealing themselves as he grew comfortable with her, "It has always just been about the thrill of the fight."

She enjoyed talking about strategy with someone. She was curious about how he got to where he was and what his fighting experience was like. "Is there a particular fight or moment during the fight that you were the most proud of? Or a favorite strategy?"

A smirk came to Evander's face as he considered this. He was an expert strategist, it was one of the things Alasdair needed him for. Whenever the King was at a loss on how to manage their troops, Evander could waltz in and cut a clear path through the enemy without a thought. But his methods were sometimes less than convention. "Hmmm..." he started, "I once took back a port from and entire fleet of English with a single ship."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Did you?” she replied curiously. “Did you use some sort of “attack the weak area strategy?” She was curious how other commanders would have approached it.

Evander scoffed, "The Englishmen's primary weakness is that they are a bunch of bumbling idiots who let their guard down way too easily." He smirked at the memory, it had certainly been one of his most daring attempts, "Myself and a group of men waited until nightfall under the new moon, then sailed out to the port in dinghies. Once we were close enough, each of us swam to a different English ship, climbed inside, and lit a fuse in their legs of gun powder before jumping out into the water. 23 ships, all up in flames at once." His expression quirked for a moment as he remembered the scar on his shoulder from being hit with burning debris during that attack, "The swim back was not quite as exhilarating."

Erika listened intently as he described the strategy. “That is clever. I am personally a fan of divide and conquer situations. I believe they allow you to do the most damage to your opponent without drawing attention to yourself too early. And you were smart to resort to destroying the ship rather than attacking man to man. That was a strong use of your limited resources.” She was doing this not only to boost his ego but also show her understanding of military strategy.

Evander smirked, his chest puffing out as he preened under her praise. "Why thank you, Milady," he said theatrically, throwing her a dashing smile.

Erika realized quickly he was too focused on himself to actively ask the same questions about her. This might explain the tensions with his wife if he didn’t make an effort towards learning about her or her days.

Evander noticed a silence fall between them, but didn't understand why. Had he said something wrong? He thought about it for a second and remembered the stupid title he'd sworn to in his bet. Thinking this was the reason, he spun around to face herz stopping them in their path, "Excuse me, I mean, thank you, my... commander." He still couldn't get it out without gritting his teeth, but he smiled through it.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Kara isn’t here, and no one else around us for that matter. You don’t have to call me that when it is just us,” she replied. “I am surprised you made that effort to keep calling me that. You could have refused Kara earlier.”

EvanderBOTYesterday at 8:52 AM

Evander narrowed his eyes at her in mock incredulity, "But I am a man of honor, and honorable men always keep their bets." He bellowed. Although he did feel better to hear she did not actually expect that of him. The whole thing was preposterous.

“I might remind you of the bet every now and again to keep you humble,” she teased playfully. “Did it actually seem so inconceivable that Queen Svala would have a female commander. I know you know her well enough to know she is not the conventional sort.”

Evander sighed. He supposed he should pi uldnt have been surprised that Svala would do such a thing, but it was not as if going from Commander to Governess was a common path. "It would not be hard to believe if you looked like Svala, but you do not carry yourself like a shield maiden." He commented, looking over her clean dress, although plainer and more functional that what most ladies wore, it was not like the fur and leather and armors her Queen adorned.

"I would if you saw me in battle. That is also why I wore pants to the duel." She chuckled. "When I am at court, I tend to wear dresses and gowns since that is more appropriate attire for a lady, even if I am not a noblewoman." She didn't mind wearing skirts form time to time, if she were honest. "However, I feel like the female servants should wear pants. It would make their work easier."

Evander scoffed. The idea of gaggles of servant girls running around in pants was absurd. They would look ridiculous. "You have a rather peculiar view of the world," he told her.

"What is so peculiar about it? Why shouldn't the servants wear clothing that is best for their work?" She was curious what kind of reasoning he would try to give for this.

"They would look ridiculous!" He spat our without thought. "Women, running everywhere in pants?" The image was absurd. And he thought further to the sinful thoughts he'd had of her seeing the right pants she'd worn to their duel and followed it with, "And I canna imagine why a woman would wish to worming something so... exposing."

"Why would we look ridiculous? Just because it is not common. We women have legs, do we not?" She crossed her arms. "What is the reason you don't wear your finest suit to the battlefield? Because it would not be the best for battle, correct? You wear what is best for the job. With everything servants have to do, the freedom of pants would be much better than a skirt.

Evander scoffed incredulously, "And would the unwanted attention from men be so much better too? You put them at risk for a... frivolity!" He snapped.

Erika raised her eyebrow. "I would dare for you to call it a frivolity until you have tried to win a battle in both a skirt and pants. I assure you the difference is more substantial than you give it credit for."

"I never said you should wear skirts in battle. That would be I'll advised. But to wear pants in the palace! It would be completely out of place!"

"I was simply making a point. Clearly I couldn't make you understand." She looked at him. "Why would that be so ridiculous? Men wear pants in the palace. Why can't women?"

"Because they're men!" He snapped at her, eyes going wide. How could she be so dense? He was about to go off on a rant about the temptations of women when the child ran back up to them and screamed 'WHY ARE WE YELLING?" Evander rolled his eyes and groaned, turning away. Children really were a nuissance.

"You Scottish men wear kilts, which are simply very short skirts. If you can do that, why couldn't women wear pants?" She chuckled when Kara came in. "The chancellor just got too excited." Kara nodded. "Can I ask the servant to bring some treats for the dogs?" Erika agreed as the little girl ran to find the nearest servant.

Evander stammered for a minute. He had never given much thought to the similarities between Kilts and skirts. So instead he simply stated childishly, "Well we wear kilts into battle, you should be just as capable of working in your skirts."

"But if it is not ridiculous for men to wear some sort of skirt, why is it ridiculous for women to wear pants? And our skirts with four layers and a bustle while your kilt is shorter and one layer. Fighting in our skirts may not be the same thing." She opened her eyes as if gesturing to herself. "Did you think I looked ridiculous wearing pants the other day?"

Evander scoffed indignantly, crossing his arms and looking away as her no-nonsense expression noted into him until he finally snapped meeting her eyes darkly, "I thought you looked positively fuckable, and that is exactly my point."

How many times must he make her roll her eyes? She scoffed at his comment. "I don't think that is the fault of the woman. The man should learn to think with his brain and not his cock. The pants could also be looser to not be so tempting."

Evander narrowed his eyes at her, eager to be done with this topic, "Ye can dress yer women however you like in Norway. We'll keep ours covered here in Scotland." He turned away from her and began walking again at a slow pace for a few steps before turning back and looking at her, "Are you coming?"

She rolled her eyes once more, knowing he didn't have any way to argue what she just did. Erika nodded and checked where Kara was. As she picked up pace with Evander, Kara caught on and made sure to stay where Erika could still see her.

Evander couldn't  think of much to speak about after their little tiff, and so he resorted to his typical gambit of small talk, asking, "Is it your first time in Scotland, Milady?"

"I am enjoying it. The mountain landscapes are just breathtaking." She replied as she followed him. "I am happy that we never had any wars with Scotland, so I could enjoy the landscapes properly."

Evander smiled, preening with pride for his homeland. "She is a beauty," he said fondly. "Even in days of battles there is always beauty to be found here. It makes it easy to lay one's life on the line for their country."

"I find I can never enjoy the beauty of any country when I am at war. My focus is strictly on the battle." She smiled. "Is there a specific place here in Scotland I should try before we go back to Norway?"

He considered her question and said, "There are any number of beautiful sights throughout the highlands, but most of them would be a three day trip at least. Not much fit for a tourist's journey."

"That is a shame. Perhaps I will need to come back and stay in the highlands then." She looked back to see where Kara was, and she was happily exploring some of the different flowers.

"I would be happy to show you some time, and your queen and her children as well," He said. He would much rather be alone with the two women, even if he knew he would never bed them, than with their gaggle of girls, but he knew it was unlikely to get one without the other, and he would take any excuse to explore the Scottish countryside. The thought also reminded him that her Queen had no sons, and he furrowed his brow in thought, asking absently, "Does Svala mean for her eldest daughter to rule?" It was not as if it was unnatural, such a thing. After all, Svala was a queen in her own right as well, but he knew also that the struggles of such women to retain their power when it came time for ruler's to change were not easy to overcome.

Erika looked at him and smirked. "I shall bring it up to the Queen and see if that was something she would enjoy." His next question did not surprise her. He had already shown his narrow minded perspective on women to make it not seem shocking. "Of course she does. That is why the two of us have worked hard to train the girls on self defense and basic combat. They should know how to do so as possible queens."

Evander nodded earnestly, "I hope that she can continue the amicable relationship her mother has made with Scotland." He had never given much thought to the girl. She was too young to be on his radar as a conquest, and even if she weren't his respect for Svala would never have allowed him to give her a second glance. He turned his gaze back to his companion, "And what do you think you'll do? When that time comes?"

"I believe that is the plan as long as no problems have arisen between our two countries." At his question, she looked away. "I have to admit I am not sure. Erik and Svala want to have another child, so I thought I would have some time before I need to know that step."

Evander nodded thoughtfully, "It is well enough to know your place in the world. I must say, it is not a feeling I am particularly familiar with. Except, perhaps, by his Majesty's side." It was an unusually candid confession for him, but she seemed to draw that out easily in Evander.

"It seems that both of our positions rely on the favor of the current monarch," she replied with a smile. "It does seem that the king is greatly trusting of you, and I am sure you can have his son swayed to your side as well."

Evander nodded, though he had never figured he would be at risk even if the monarchy in Scotland did change. He supposed he would return to the Navy, though upon deeper thought, any events that might culminate in Alasdair's loss of power would most certain require Evander's death as well. At the mention of the young prince, Evander grimaced slightly. "If his mother's silver tongue does not poison him first." He bit out bitterly.

Her eyebrow raised at his talk about Alasdair's mother. She was not aware that the woman had such a reputation, but he spoke as if it was common knowledge. This woman was never a queen, so what power could she possibly have over this? "Does his mother actively disapprove of your title?"

Evander raised an eyebrow at the phrasing of her question, seeing that she may have misunderstood his meaning. So he said pointedly, "The Queen Valentina and I have not yet gotten stuck of each other, but she is borne of the Medici snakes, and I do not trust that she will not betray Alasdair as she did his brother. I do not know what type of Prince she will raise his son to be." He knew he should not speak such conspiracies so openly, but he did not mind if word of his suspicion made it back to the Queen. Perhaps it would keep her on notice.

Erika couldn't help but laugh. "Oh. I thought you were referring to Alasdair's mother," she replied with a chuckle. "Well, if we are to be quite honest, I am not a supporter of the queen," she whispered. "I have the same worries for Alasdair and anyone who supports her. She has not shown any evidence to be the most faithful of sorts."

Evander was relieved to know that she was on his side, despite already knowing that Svala agreed with his sentiments. "Only time will tell," he said absently. They had wandered near a marsh, and in the distance he could see Kara jumping from one stone to another across the muddy group. He raised an eyebrow and no sooner had he said ,"I donna think that is a wise activity, " than the child lost her footing on a loose rock and tumbling into the mud with a plop.

She sighed and nodded. Their conversation was becoming very interesting when he made the comment and she paid close attention to the terrain around the rocks. Before she could call out, the little girl fell in the mud. "Kara..." she immediately ran to her and helped her up. "Are you alright?" Kara had a big smile. "Yeah! Look! I could hide in the mud to scare my enemy in battle." Erika chuckled. "Yes you could, but aren't in battle. We will need to get you changed."

Evander grimaced and the giggling soiled child. She would leave a mess trekking through the castle to get changed. Another one of the many hassles with children. He watched Erika fuss over the girl with a complete lack of ability to relate to her concern. As a boy, he had fallen into the mud many times and never worried about getting hurt. He shifted uncomfortably at the scene and said, "I suppose I should leave you to take care of this."

Erika looked up to him with an apologetic look. "I am sorry. I do have to get her cleaned up before she goes and gives the Queen a hug..." she chuckled. "Thank you for joining us on your walk. I have enjoyed your company and conversation. Perhaps we could have more of these conversations in the future?"

The image she painted of the child soiling her mother's gown only made Evander more averse to the child, even though he knew it likely wouldn't bother Svala as much as most. He nodded graciously to his companion and said, "I would like that, Milady. When you are less... occupied."

"Thank you for your understanding, Chancellor," she replied with a smile. "Of course. Perhaps I can find a time once the king and queen spend time with the children to talk with you."

[sparklyandhaunted]

Harry nodded. "Do you think Quirrellmort was trying to stop him?"

"Quirrellmort?"

Harry jerked, suddenly realizing Hermione was sitting there.

"You're in Ravenclaw," he stupidly said.

- regrets collect like old friends by scotland evander

[cursebreakerhawk-blog]

A not so Brief History of the Hawk Family (+family tree)

(hope you can see something in this terrible pic)

Summary: Backstory of a family of Slytherin purebloods, how the oldest son fell in love with a muggle, ran away with her, and made all the wrong choices in his life. A brief description of their sons, and their fate. Please don’t ignore, I know it’s long, but it’s not boring, I promise.

The Hawks, not unlike the Gaunts, the Malfoys, and the Blacks, were a long lineage of pureblood Slytherins, which would not have been very good for Finn’s character, if he had actually met any of them.

Let’s elaborate. Finn’s dad, Cordelius Hawk, was the oldest of the Hawk boys. Him, his little brother Evander and their parents, Gertrud and Marcellus, lived in an enormous mansion in the south of Scotland. Gertrud and Marcellus were unemployed, living of their family’s fortune. While Marcellus, who was much older than his wife, liked to spend his days out in pubs, Gertrud was always at home, taking care of the boys. (not a very functional marriage, but who said they were functional people?)

They were not the nicest of folks: Marcellus got into numerous fights with other wizards at pubs, having even killed one, once, with a very nasty curse he invented himself. Gertrud, on the other hand, had the unfortunate habit of hexing anything that came remotely close to their gigantic garden, including poor, unaware birds and squirrels, and a child’s kite. They both were supporters of Grindelwald during the first wizarding war.

While Evander was fascinated by watching their mother hex everyone, Cordelius found it disgusting. Without their mother’s knowledge, he would even take some of the wounded animals back to his room and try to nurse them back to health. He was always very peaceful, very tactful, good enough to bother his parents. That said, Evander was too dumb and brutal to win their afection as well.

One morning, the Hawk parents were out on a meeting with their fellow Grindelwald supporters, and Cordelius (who was 26 at the time) was taking care of Evander (who was 16), and while their parents usually let him use magic at home, despite being underage, Cordelius wasn’t fond of bending the law to let him practice dark magic in the garden. 

A few minutes past 11 AM, a curious muggle kid walked by the fence, and, channeling his inner Gertrud, Evander charmed a large rock to fly in her direction. Cordelius had left his wand in his bedroom, and had no way of stopping his brother from seriously hurting the kid other than jumping in front of the rock and catching it. That’s what he did, after taking a murderous glance at his little shit of a brother.

‘Are you alright?’, he asked the kid, while Evander ran back into the house.

‘I am.’, she answered, ‘Could you explain to me what happened?’.

‘My retarded younger brother thought it would be fun to throw a rock at you.’, he said, carefully, to avoid mentioning magic.

The kid turned red with anger.

‘Well, I hope you tell your parents about that!’, she said.

‘I’m afraid they would take his side. I would end up being punished for helping you.’, he confided, ‘I think the best thing you can do is not walk by this house ever again... For your own safety.’

‘Can I at least know your name?’

‘Cordelius Hawk.’

‘Thanks for defying your family to save me, Cordelius Hawk. I’m Amelia Watson.’

Cordelius noticed that Evander was coming back to the garden.

‘It was nice to meet you, Amelia. Now, run!’

She did. Cordelius knew his parents would never let him hear the end of it if they found out, so it was time for a desperate measure. He flew past his little brother, who was now out in the garden, got into his room, grabbed his wand and pointed it at Evander, through the window. ‘Obliviate!’, he muttered, and the incident was never spoken of, at least for the next 14 years.

*

It was really late, one night, when the doorbell rang at the Hawk mansion. Gertrud came downstairs, in her night robes, her concealed wand in one of the pockets. Cordelius was carefully watching through his window, but he couldn’t really tell who was downstairs.

‘I demand to see Cordelius Hawk!’, said the fierce brunette at the door, who was now much taller than Gertrud.

The witch cussed, reaching for her wand, but Cordelius was already jumping down the last flight of stairs.

‘Amelia?’, he asked, and she grinned.

‘You know this muggle?’ questioned Gertrud, in a high pitched scream, astonished.

The way Amelia pulled Cordelius into a passionate kiss gave her the answer. He kissed her back. Gertrud felt like she had been hit by a stupefy. 

‘Now, run!’, Cordelius whispered in her ear.

‘Is that your catchphrase?’, she laughed.

He had already grabbed her arm, and they were running into the night, Gertrud too paralyzed by shock to do anything. The next morning, when Marcellus heard of what happened, he ordered his wife to snap their son’s wand in half, and ban him from the house. Gertrud quietly agreed, but she kept his wand hidden in her secret locker. She had just found out in the hardest way that even the coldest hearts can break.

*

Cordelius and Amelia never got married. Every wedding had to be publicly announced back in the day, and they were too afraid that his parents would find out. Cordelius never told her that he was a wizard, either. He had left his wand at the mansion, and even if he hadn’t, showing his true nature to her would be breaking the law. And the law would have way more severe consequences than some stupid family rule. They moved to London, and lived with Amelia’s parents, Isabella and Hugh Watson, who were much younger than Cordelius’s parents, and much warmer: they understood he was hiding from his family, and treated him like a son.

One year later, Jacob Hawk was born. He was perfect: his parents and maternal grandparents loved him like he was the best boy in the world. The Watsons had a small garden with a swing, and he spent most of his childhood in there, never lonely, always loved.

Even though he was finally happy, and finally at peace, Cordelius would feel his heart sink sometimes. He missed magic, the world he had lived in for fourty years. He missed being special, and being powerful (because, yes, he was one of the most powerful young wizards at Hogwarts when he was a teenager, and still very gifted as an adult). In some twisted way, he even missed his abusive family. Whenever those thoughts began to creep into his mind, usually in the middle of the night, he would hug Amelia closer, and try to let go of them. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes he failed.

*

(We don’t know how many years passed between Jacob’s and Finn’s births, and I’m still waiting for Jam City’s canon version of this. However, it makes sense that Jacob was not a toddler whan his younger sibling was born. This is important to the next part of the story.)

Cordelius and Amelia had another son, Finn, a few years later. He got just as much love as his older brother, from the whole family. He had his dad’s black hair and blue eyes, but Amelia’s kind expression.

On the day of his first birthday, 23rd April 1974, Amelia asked Cordelius to go get a birthday cake at the local bakery. He reluctantly agreed: he was still scared of running into his parents, although the thoughts about them and magic were much more frequent.

It was certainly probably not a coincidence when he found Gertrud standing outside the shop. She had always been a wonderful legilimens, also with a gift for divination. She would have known. Cordelius was expecting harsh words, curses, hexes... The last thing he expected was a hug.

Gertrud, now a widow, seemed much older and smaller than her son remembered. She pulled him in for a long time, and after she finally let go, she revealed his old wand, that she had brought in her purse.

‘You left this at home.’, she murmured, ‘I’ve been missing you terribly. Your father passed away not long after you left. Your brother got himself killied in a duel at a pub, four months ago. He was never too bright...’, she sighed. ‘Please, come home. I love you, and I know you love me to. Also, you’d be able to use magic once again.’

Wether she meant those words, or was just blatantly trying to manipulate him, Cordelius never knew. The only thing he knew was that it worked: his youngest son never got his first birthday cake.

*

Since the Watsons were muggles, the two boys grew up without knowing anything about magic. Hagrid had to come to their little house in London to explain to young Jacob that he was a wizard. As Finn was obviously too young to remember his father, and none of the Watsons ever told him anything about him, Jacob resented him badly. After hearing Hagrid’s declarations, he immediately deduced that his father must had been a wizard too.

When he got to Hogwarts, Jacob was determined to get his revenge: he was going to find a type of magic more powerful that the one his father possessed, and use it to punish him for abandoning them. First, he had to study about his own origins. He spent all the time at the library, and it didn’t take him much time to find out the Hawk family in some books about purebloods. Then, during his research, he came across the Cursed Vaults, and knew he had found what he wanted.

It was not until Jacob’s third year that he realised all the Hawks were dead. Gertrud got sick and died one year after her encounter with Cordelius. Now completely alone, and regretting every life decision he had made, Cordelius had sunken into a terrible depression, combined with magical drunkness and failed attempts of enchanting himself into being happy again. He took his own life, being one of the only few wizards to successfully Avada Kedavra himself.

However, Jacob was now too deep into the search of the vaults to give up. And we all know how that worked out for him.

All of the Hawks’ malice and the Watsons’ remorse did not darken Finn’s heart, against all the odds. He was always too sweet, too kind, too peaceful, not unlike his father. The difference, however, was noticed by Amelia when she asked her youngest son not to disappear like the other men in her life. He hugged his mom, and promised that not only would he never leave her, he would also bring his brother home. She wiped away a tear. Finn was, in fact, different. Finn was loyal, against all odds.

[rabbitbythemoon]

Possession.

Drabbles@ofdeathandfear

The tv created a light drone of sound in the quiet apartment. It’s light and the one in the kitchen creating a warm and gentle flicker in the otherwise darkened space. Lapen listened absently to the faint sound of the kettle starting to boil on the stove as he stared down at his blanketed lap. His head rested against the back of the couch and his thumb ran gently over the surface of the tiny box in his hand. 

Intricate carvings covered the old wood, mimicking familiar knots he’d seen ages ago. The texture relaxed him as he traced the markings with his eyes, his mind lost in layers of thoughts. So lost, that he missed the quiet feet of the little girl as she tip toed up to the back of the couch from the kitchen and peaked over it at what he was toying with. 

“Whatcha doin?” Elaine asked in an exaggerated whisper, biting her lip to suppress her giggles as the man jumped and nearly threw the box in his hand. She grinned innocently as the immortal gave her a half hearted glare from his pinked face.  

“You nearly scared the life from me!” He sighed and smiled at the fake pout the freckled girl gave him. “You’re far too quiet for your own good, miss.” 

“Gwen’s been teaching me~” He raised an eyebrow at her which she ignored in favor of lifting herself up and onto the back of the couch to get a better look at the small box. “What’s that?” 

“This?” Lapen looked down and lifted it into the light for the girl to see. Her dark brown eyes lit up as she took in the delicate carvings,” It’s something I got long ago. From the first Evanders I knew.” 

Elaine glanced at the elder’s face to find his eyes softened to a fondness that stretched his life time. She’d only heard stories of her however-great-grandparents from Lapen. Few others in her father’s family remembered any tales of them. But the immortal always seemed to remember everything. She looked back to the box as he held it to her. Small hands delicately took it, brown eyes glancing at him for permission, before gently prying it open. 

Inside was a small ring. The girl’s eyes went a little wide as she tilted it to catch the light. It was simple. A dark metal band with a well polished strip of deep colored smoky quartz. It’s color shifted gently as it caught the kitchen light. The dark, almost black, tone turned to a rich orange as she examined it. 

“It was made in Scotland,” Lapen explained, drawing the girl’s attention as she handed the box back to him,” Emrys gave it to me one year for my birthday. Told me to let it remind me of home, no matter where I might wander off to. And maybe someday, he thought, I might give it to someone that’s as home to me as the mountains where it was made.” He closed the box in his hand and looked up into the wide brown eyes staring intently at him, a chuckle in his throat at the excitement glitering there. 

“So you’re gonna-?” 

“I’d like to.”

“Then-!” 

“I don’t know a good time.” The girl beamed at the Scot as he glanced away with his cheeks warming as he fiddled again with the box. “See- It’s been on my mind, but I haven’t gotten the courage to- Well-”

“You gotta though!” 

“But how? What if he says no?” 

“You won’t know til you ask! Oh oh! We can ask the others for help too! They’ll help I know it!”

“Wa-Wait! Nononono, Elaine I am not going to ask for help with this-!”

“Then I’ll do it for ya!” 

“Elaine!”

[moragmac]

           note: on this page you can find some background on            where the members of the macdougal family are at now

            SUMMER OF 1989. LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND.

It was a rarity, for all of them to be together at once. It was usually just her, Tavish and Moira, together in their home, their mother’s watchful eyes following them, but on some, rare days, it was all six of them.

And it was wonderful.

They had left their parents at home --- their mother in the living, their father in his study ( as separated as they could get without filing for a divorce ) --- and ran to the lake, squealing and screaming. Tavish had been thrown over Eithne’s shoulder, and Morag’s fingers grabbed at Evander’s hair as he ran, her tiny body bobbing up and down on his shoulders. She watched her other sisters jump in the water already. A grin curled her lips.

It was so warm. She could feel a drop of sweat sliding over her spine and she shivered, ready to dive in the cold waters of the lake and find release in it. “Alright, kiddo,” she heard her brother say, dropping her on the ground, grin on his lips. “I’ll race ya. If you dare, of course.” 

And she did. She nodded, slipping off her dress quickly, legs moving faster and faster and faster until they crashed through the waterline. She was underwater soon, diving before coming up with a wide grin. She had won.

The thought that her brother might have let her win didn’t even enter her mind.

They swam for what seemed hours --- and maybe they did. Morag watched Eithne and Evander swim to the other side of the lake and come back, out of breath. They lied on the shore, pointing at clouds and telling stories that had and hadn’t happened. They tossed a Quaffle, dried Moira’s tears when she stubbed her toe on a rock, fought a little, laughed a lot. 

This was the summer after Seònaid’s graduation, the one before Moira’s start at Hogwarts. An important one, because of it --- one where the family welcomed back one siblings, and prepared to say goodbye to another. 

It was bittersweet. Morag dreaded the end of August, the day of September first, the moment during which she’d have to hug her sister and say goodbye. She felt like it was wrong to have favourites when it came to family, but Moira was her favourite, easily. Eithne and Evander seemed untouchable, people who Morag knew but didn’t, not really. Seònaid was nice enough, but she reminded her of her father, with her absence and silence. The three of them were so much older, too, stuck in an entirely different world that mae no sense to her yet.

But Moira was her closest companion, her partner in crime, the one she linked fingers with and gossiped with under the sheets of one of their beds. Tavish came second, with his softness and ability to give her moments of silence that didn’t feel heavy.

It seemed like their family was split in different units. You had Evander and Eithne, the ones who shouldered responsibility and legacy without ever complaining. You had Seònaid, who flew through their lives as if she was a disappearing breeze, never completely present. There were Moira, Morag and Tavish, bright eyed and protected by the three siblings above them. There was her father, alone and married more to solitude than his wife. 

Rosemary MacDougal was the one who oversaw it all, watching her family as if she was a goddess in the sky. Piercing eyes, controlling words, sharp nails and a warmth that sometimes burned more than it comforted. She was the glue, somehow, but also the force that drove them apart.

Morag loved them all. In that moment especially, with the summer sun shining on the lake and her sister’s laughter in her ear. In the end they were a unit together, too --- six kids, bound by the lake that they’d lived next to all their lives. She might feel more connected than one than she did the other, but they were part of her. She was their sister, they were her sisters and brothers. It was one of the things she could be sure of.

The water of the lake was wet. Sunny days would run out. Summer would turn into fall, and Moira would leave for Hogwarts. Eithne and Evander would go back to their city homes and Seònaid would move away at one point, too. Her father would bury himself in work and fight with her mother when he thought she was asleep. Tavish would cry in his pillow and not say what was wrong. Rain would fall. Night would come. And Morag would be a sister, still.

[ofisla-blog]

heyo! it’s roxanne ( she/her. 18. cdt. ) again! and this is one of my smol beans, miss isla duncan, lady of muchalls. i have her [ dossier ] and her [ connections ] page as well as eventually a bio, which i will undoubtedly announce unnecessarily by making graphics, lmao. i am open to any and all connections, so pls hit me up! or LIKE THIS POST IF YOU WOULD LIKE ME TO COME TO YOU.

( MADDISON JAIZANI ) allow me to introduce MISS ISLA DUNCAN, the TWENTY year old LADY of MUCHALLS from SCOTLAND! rumors about court say they’re NAIVE and VINDICTIVE, but the rumors always forget to include they’re also PASSIONATE and OPTIMISTIC. 

ok! so isla’s story begins with her parents. her father is laird evander duncan; her mother is lady isla duncan. their marriage was arranged, as many noble marriages are. they weren’t particularly fond of each other romantically, but rather they helped each other better their positions in the social world. isla knew her way around social circles, and evander had a knack for investing. despite the lack of romance in their marriage, duties had to be done, hence, isla.

isla grew up in the hands of a nanny, as her parents spent their days working for the survival of their clan. she was taught very basic things, but had no interest in her studies. in fact, she the only thing that kept her still was the promise of riding her horses after her lessons.

( confirmed: isla is a #horsegirl )

as the only girl among her siblings, she definitely kinda slowly turned into a tomboy, if it weren’t for the efforts of her mother and nanny. if it wasn’t for them, she’d probably be play fighting and roughhousing from sunup to sundown. but alas, she does have well manners after all, for her mother wanted her to become the perfect woman. the ideal woman. the perfect, ideal bride. 

her mother wanted her to marry even higher into the aristocracy, for she knew that the family was running on almost nothing. but isla didn’t know this. she simply took every day and every lesson as it came. she was a happy, bright girl.

but when the war came around, she definitely did not go outside as much as she used to; it wasn’t safe. but her mother believed it was for the best; her etiquette lessons only increased. it was a mundane lifestyle, void of horse riding or playing with her brothers ( they had been drafted ). and then everything changed.

her mother fell ill quickly; with what, she didn’t know. no one knew. but her health declined rapidly, until she was simply dead. evander hired a governess in addition to her nanny, but that wasn’t enough. even though isla resented her lessons and only yearned to be outside, she still dearly loved her mother because she was her spitting image. out of grief, isla suddenly disappeared, claiming to attend court to meet possible suitors. but she never arrived.

instead, she enlisted in the war. but not as herself, of course, or she would have been returned to her father in shame. ( they were already broke. they needn’t shame. ) she spent two years traveling across europe with the scottish army. she was as good with a sword as she was with a gun.

but during one battle, she and another man had carried themselves away deep into the forest, too caught up in the fighting to realize that they had isolated themselves. it was then that she was discovered. he threatened to blow her cover if she didn’t immediately return home. defeated, she did.

but as soon as she arrived, they were off again, for tuscany. perhaps she’ll never have to tell the truth.