#maraudrshq:starters

[canismajcrsarchived-blog]

  the tension in the air was thick. more bodies than usual crowded the dark streets of knockturn alley. all waiting. for something, anything to happen that would cause a disturbance in the calm that existed before the inevitable storm. the former black heir was among them. head down low to keep a low profile until it was time for him to spring into action. that’d been his intention anyways. however, when he felt someone bump into his shoulder, the male was quick to turn with narrowed eyes. “ oi, watch it, “ he snapped. an uncommon lash of anger over the simple interaction. one that was perhaps brought on by the tension that built up around him.

[yesmissrileyjames-blog]

“Agh!” Riley’s head shot up from the table as it was shaken. She couldn’t tell if it was by someone sitting down or shaking it, but it didn’t matter. “Can’t you let a poor nurse sleep? In a public place? At…eleven-thirty in the morning?” The witch sighed and finally sat up, peeling a piece of hair that had stuck to her face. “My tea’s probably cold now…”

[purkissing]

" i mean... " doris had never thought any of it through, not in the slightest. she was sure that when she had joined in for battle, taking a clear side with the order under the agreement it would remain under wraps that it would. now all she could think of was if that list was true and what would happen if the wrong person got their hands on it. " are we even sure its real? it could all be fake... "

[liammackenna]

His hands moved methodically as he fidgeted with a deck of cards. False cut, three ways, fold in, and they were gone. It was a simple disappearing trick, one he’d learned ages ago but it kept him calm. 

Not being able to be on the field was killing him. He liked thinking up a plan, making sure every single knot was tied up just the right way, but not being able to execute it, to see it through was fraying at his nerves. There wasn’t much else he could do at the Order but being anywhere else on his own would just be the same. And so he sat around, waiting for people to show back up, injured or not. And he fidgeted. Shook his hands out, made the deck reappear and started the pattern all over again.

[carrowe]

" ----- couple reporters more or less. what’s the difference?” he says, tossing the daily prophet to the side. doesn’t exactly take the publication SERIOUSLY, but reads it nonetheless. if only to see what nonsense is published that day -- see how deep their corruption runs. he finds it amusing. almost as amusing as its reporters being killed off like flies, but that’s a different story. which he SURPRISINGLY did not have any hand in. though he kinda wishes that he had, now that he can see the outcome. maybe next time a reporter puts their nose where it doesn’t belong, he can have some fun too. an embroidered silver spoon is stirred in his tea, and he takes a bite out of his scone, all the while ignoring the chatter of the three broomsticks’ breakfast crowd. doesn’t bother him. neither does his table companion, so he doesn’t spare them a second look as he spreads more raspberry jam onto his bread. his voice remains cold, quiet, barely audible. “too insensitive? i can feel you staring, but we both know that i’m right. reporters are like cockroaches. kill two, three new ones appear.”

[inthemeadowes]

“ y’know, my family should be on the list. “ dorcas commented without much care at the sight of the newest edition of witch weekly and their long piece on the abbott family. “ there was this whole thing betwen the nott dude who wrote it and my family, and boom, the pevensies were out of the question. “ 

[kierafawley]

         kiera was not a party person --- but she knew her place. she knew how to sew on the perfect smile, how to lace together the right words, and as much as she longed to be home with her husband, she knew she couldn’t leave. tristan had promised he would follow as soon as he could, but for now she had to fend for herself ( ALONE ). twisting a glass of champagne through her fingers, she wandered aimlessly through the crowds of perfectly dressed purebloods, offering polite words of greeting or soft smiles and nods when it was deemed appropriate. she only came to a stop once the lightly bubbled liquid had been finished, placing the glass on a passing tray and smiling as best she could at the small group she was now facing.  ❛ i’m sure we are all having a lovely evening? ❜ she greeted, carefully avoiding the topic of lists for the time being.

[leonardoflint]

with his sister taking a break to travel, OMEN shows had somewhat stopped, leonardo just jumping in for bits of other people’s gigs and writing, writing, writing. that night though, three broomsticks was packed, after people mentioned they’d seen lead singer of OMEN sitting during karaoke night, head bopping along to the songs. it didnt take long for the small crowd to pull him on stage along with his friend and band guitarist. he was already a few songs in, some of his own, others with the floating karaoke lyrics, when an idea came to his head as he picked a song. “ no, no, c’mon, this is a duet, anyone wanna come up here ? “ 

[lcvecatching]

    the girl that always had a smile on her face. it was something that she’d gotten used to be referenced with over time. even as people would ridicule her in school for her blood status, the smile on her face never seemed to falter ( at least not in public ). but now, her lips creased into a visible frown as dark eyes scanned the page in front of her that detailed the horrific deaths of two order members. one had been just a year younger than her. without realizing that her hands were shaking, she picked up the tea that she had been working on. before she could manage to get to take a calming sip, some of the liquid ( unsurprisingly ) spilled over the edge and onto the countertop in front of the other patron beside her. “ oh ! “ she exclaimed. quickly, she grabbed the nearest thing that she could find--a napkin--and tried to soak up the tea before it made too much of a mess. “ i am so sorry. did i get anything on you? “

[flehtcher]

      sitting under a no smoking sign while taking desperate drags from a cigarette would have made dung laugh his ass off on any other day, but today he barely even registered the irony. ALL he knew was that he needed the damn smoke, the quick and small relief of a cigarette. it was distracting, too, to watch the curling smoke, to focus on his breathing ... it was a small moment of escape. WELL, as much escape as he could get --- the fact that he was stuck ( and not just in a smelly bathroom, but in a hospital ) was enough to make him feel all kinds of itchy. this was not dung’s scene: he avoided confrontation and battle and blood -- well, blood most of the time -- and did his work in the DARK, sneaking around and risking only his damn self. this was too big for him, and in this moment of privacy, hiding in a bathroom stall, he allowed himself to give into the fear that was making his muscles tense. “fuck,” he cursed suddenly, hoping that speaking to a perfectly tiled wall would help. “fucking bloody mothershitting hell.”

[macdvnaldarchive]

   mary outran her emotions quickly, but they always seemed to catch up with her. that day there were many of them -- anger and fear were most prominent, but there was also sheer panic sitting in mary’s chest, pushing down on her lungs -- and suddenly she couldn’t fight them any more. she was done. edgar bones had come out twice now, both times bringing news that shook something mary, that triggered a rage that she was tired of keeping down. and then there were the questions, that kept coming, and did not grant her a moment of fucking peace. “i don’t know what we’re going to do, yeah?,” she told the woman in front of her, well aware that her tone was not official enough --- but FUCK that. she was done with that. “and if i did, i would not go around telling everyone and their mother what was going to happen. who knows, you could be a mole, after all, and i’m not bloody stupid.”

[canismajcrsarchived-blog]

[ 2:02 PM ] SIRIUS → FOR A GOOD TIME: so you’re in my phone as “ for a good time “ . [ 2:02 PM ] SIRIUS → FOR A GOOD TIME: i’m listening.

[sturgismore]

focus on work. that was all he could do to keep his mind off the latest events, throw himself at the present and go bother some people about it. with a muggle pen ready, he roamed hogsmeade twenty after an attack on two small shops, owned by a muggleborn and a ‘blood traitor’ family. “ daily prophet here, excuse me. did you see the attack ? do you agree with the claim that ever since the st. mungo’s attack, “ barely two weeks earlier still, “ these sorts have become more common ? “ 

[ofminerva]

she brings her work to order headquarters more often than she’d like to admit. there’s simply too much to do, and she has no one to delegate it to ( well, she does, but she doesn’t trust them enough ), and so minerva is continuously stuck in a state of multitasking. essays from one of her NEWT classes lie on the table while she reads one of them, red ink marking mistakes. she’s not too focused, her mind constantly drifting off, constantly ending up in that dark corner in her head she tries to avoid so hard. she cannot, does not, will not allow herself to grief when there’s too much to be done, but her body BEGS her to. she ignores it, forces her attention back to the paper for another five minutes. when she hears the front door open, relief spreads through her -- a distraction, something new to do, another task -- and she puts the parchment down. she waits to see who comes through the door and then ---- “tea?,” she asks, by means of a greeting. “someone baked biscuits, too.”

[defeatsdeath]

            HE FEELS SICK TO HIS STOMACH. fear is flickering in his eyes, and his heart is beating a thousand miles per minute, threatening to jump out his chest. he’s seeing double, palms clammy with sweat, the taste of iron at the back of his throat. he seldom panics, but he’s also usually in the middle of the action, not stuck outside. told that it’s impossible to get in.... that he can’t save his friends, and his pregnant wife. it’s making him see red. “ what do they mean, ‘ we can’t get in ? ‘ “ he says, his voice a little louder, a little more high pitched than he had perhaps intended. a thousand solutions flash before his eyes ( some more stupid than others, like transforming into a stag and ramming down the doors ). “ you tellin’ me that the ministry of magic can’t solve this? so what exactly are they good for, then? i’m getting in. i don’t care how. “

[carrowe]

          foot steps echo against concrete in an almost empty parking garage. he’s keeping a safe distance, making sure that the girl doesn’t notice him, that she doesn’t know that he’s there. that he’s watching. when he hears the promising sound of her car unlocking, he hurries his step, preparing himself for what comes next. but before he can pounce, the sound of a cell phone buzzing close by knocks him out of his trance, makes him freeze for a second. think twice. head turns, laser blue eyes searching the dark garage for a source, and gaze eventually falls on a figure, not too far away. a witness. but still enclosed in darkness, so he can’t quite tell who it is. he has to stifle a growl, but instead forces himself into a charming smile. an act he can’t keep up for long. knowing full well he can’t come too close. his shirt, though dark, is covered in blood ---- and he’s fairly certain that he has some blood splatter on his neck. which will all be too noticeable if the distance is narrowed between them. “good evening!” he says, voice even, clear. not a trace of nervousness. though not particularly eager to engage. but also knowing that it will be more suspicious if he just... flees. and there’s also something nagging on his mind, reminding him that victims can shift quickly. doesn’t need to be the initial target. can be someone who was just at the wrong place, at the wrong time. with a buzzing cell phone. “everything all right there? it’s getting late, probably shouldn’t be out by yourself. can i walk you to your car?”