+- Hemlock & Lace (https://hemlock.rpginit.com/mybb)
+-- Forum: Rose Garden (https://hemlock.rpginit.com/mybb/forumdisplay.php?fid=17)
+--- Forum: Logs & Plots (https://hemlock.rpginit.com/mybb/forumdisplay.php?fid=19)
+---- Forum: Logs (https://hemlock.rpginit.com/mybb/forumdisplay.php?fid=28)
+---- Thread: Iron & Blood (/showthread.php?tid=392)
RE: Iron & Blood - Daesn'yri - 12-05-2023
To Cut Me
Your Tongue Must Be Sharper Than the Thick Skin You Made
RE: Iron & Blood - Daesn'yri - 12-29-2023
RE: Iron & Blood - Daesn'yri - 12-29-2023
A WREATH OF THORNS ADORNS THE DOOR
Her thoughts were elsewhere, anywhere but here in the abysmal chill that nipped at her even through the thick furs that cloaked her shoulders. Her mind had wandered back to the ship that bore her here from across the sea, to the comforting creak and groan of the futtock as the waves brushed against the hull. It had been calming, a blissful ride, a paradise compared to living on the sand bitten streets. The days had been hot, miserable. The nights were frigid, yet without the lack of powdered white that dappled these ones. She thought she had been found, that she was returning home. That her ordeals and tribulations would be over. She could still recall the immense confusion she had felt as her mother had held her face within her hands and spoke to her in a language she could only barely understand a scattered word of. How she had smiled as the word home kept creeping across her tongue. Home. A place she couldn't remember but knew she longed for terribly.
Home.
A bittersweet sentiment now. One that felt more like a prison. It made her actually miss those filthy roads she sat at the side of. In comparison to this gilded cage and all its restrictive chains, that place offered whispers of freedom. Where her will could be her own, from the way she dressed and behaved to who it was she would spend the remainder of her life with. None would care there. She may have been nothing there, a worthless vagabond doomed to starvation and withering, but she would have been without what her mother had called familial duty. Death may have come, but it wouldn't find her an old woman, gray, aged and going blind from staring out a window all day. Watching the people unbound, becoming jealous of them. Telling the hours of the days forever by their comings and goings while she was kept under lock and key like her home was some ivory tower.
Her heart began to skip - to race. What was keeping her here? She had already slipped the watch of Aethelos. A thing she assumed to be a brittle thread if only to keep the complacency of their father. Peace of mind he had said. What peace of mind to him would it be should she be murdered or not? Married or not? Present or not? It wouldn't be. The notion had her numbed fingers coiling into the dense fabric of the gown she'd donned, pulling her hooded shawl tighter. She would leave, a course of action she assumed she had taken before. There were no kidnappers, were there? No sickness. No, her body was far too healthy even after the weeks, perhaps even months of starvation she had faced in that coastal city to belong to some sickly frail wilting flower. She had run away. She had chosen to leave this life behind and be free. Something had happened though, something she could not recall. She would repeat it. She would vanish into the breaking day, but this time she would not be taken back into custody.
“Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gasped audibly, followed by a slight cough at the influx of frigid air. She whirled, boots nearly tripping over one another before she caught herself. Her face flushed as she looked upon the face of the one who had addressed her. A slight smile crossed her lips as her cheeks further burned, pale eyes turning downward. "F-forgive me. I-I must look f-foolish." Was it lost she looked? Lost, confused? Neither a wholly wrong description. “Were you trying to find something?” She bit the inside of her cheek slightly, vision returning to his face as she searched his countenance for a brief moment. "N-no. Not part-ticularly." She would pause, her mouth opening before closing, debating her next words somewhat carefully before simply settling on. "I'm just l-leaving." The words were just above a whisper regardless.
Home.
A bittersweet sentiment now. One that felt more like a prison. It made her actually miss those filthy roads she sat at the side of. In comparison to this gilded cage and all its restrictive chains, that place offered whispers of freedom. Where her will could be her own, from the way she dressed and behaved to who it was she would spend the remainder of her life with. None would care there. She may have been nothing there, a worthless vagabond doomed to starvation and withering, but she would have been without what her mother had called familial duty. Death may have come, but it wouldn't find her an old woman, gray, aged and going blind from staring out a window all day. Watching the people unbound, becoming jealous of them. Telling the hours of the days forever by their comings and goings while she was kept under lock and key like her home was some ivory tower.
Her heart began to skip - to race. What was keeping her here? She had already slipped the watch of Aethelos. A thing she assumed to be a brittle thread if only to keep the complacency of their father. Peace of mind he had said. What peace of mind to him would it be should she be murdered or not? Married or not? Present or not? It wouldn't be. The notion had her numbed fingers coiling into the dense fabric of the gown she'd donned, pulling her hooded shawl tighter. She would leave, a course of action she assumed she had taken before. There were no kidnappers, were there? No sickness. No, her body was far too healthy even after the weeks, perhaps even months of starvation she had faced in that coastal city to belong to some sickly frail wilting flower. She had run away. She had chosen to leave this life behind and be free. Something had happened though, something she could not recall. She would repeat it. She would vanish into the breaking day, but this time she would not be taken back into custody.
“Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gasped audibly, followed by a slight cough at the influx of frigid air. She whirled, boots nearly tripping over one another before she caught herself. Her face flushed as she looked upon the face of the one who had addressed her. A slight smile crossed her lips as her cheeks further burned, pale eyes turning downward. "F-forgive me. I-I must look f-foolish." Was it lost she looked? Lost, confused? Neither a wholly wrong description. “Were you trying to find something?” She bit the inside of her cheek slightly, vision returning to his face as she searched his countenance for a brief moment. "N-no. Not part-ticularly." She would pause, her mouth opening before closing, debating her next words somewhat carefully before simply settling on. "I'm just l-leaving." The words were just above a whisper regardless.
NO ONE COMES HOME ANYMORE
A WREATH OF THORNS ADORNS THE DOOR
Her thoughts were elsewhere, anywhere but here in the abysmal chill that nipped at her even through the thick furs that cloaked her shoulders. Her mind had wandered back to the ship that bore her here from across the sea, to the comforting creak and groan of the futtock as the waves brushed against the hull. It had been calming, a blissful ride, a paradise compared to living on the sand bitten streets. The days had been hot, miserable. The nights were frigid, yet without the lack of powdered white that dappled these ones. She thought she had been found, that she was returning home. That her ordeals and tribulations would be over. She could still recall the immense confusion she had felt as her mother had held her face within her hands and spoke to her in a language she could only barely understand a scattered word of. How she had smiled as the word home kept creeping across her tongue. Home. A place she couldn't remember but knew she longed for terribly.
Home.
A bittersweet sentiment now. One that felt more like a prison. It made her actually miss those filthy roads she sat at the side of. In comparison to this gilded cage and all its restrictive chains, that place offered whispers of freedom. Where her will could be her own, from the way she dressed and behaved to who it was she would spend the remainder of her life with. None would care there. She may have been nothing there, a worthless vagabond doomed to starvation and withering, but she would have been without what her mother had called familial duty. Death may have come, but it wouldn't find her an old woman, gray, aged and going blind from staring out a window all day. Watching the people unbound, becoming jealous of them. Telling the hours of the days forever by their comings and goings while she was kept under lock and key like her home was some ivory tower.
Her heart began to skip - to race. What was keeping her here? She had already slipped the watch of Aethelos. A thing she assumed to be a brittle thread if only to keep the complacency of their father. Peace of mind he had said. What peace of mind to him would it be should she be murdered or not? Married or not? Present or not? It wouldn't be. The notion had her numbed fingers coiling into the dense fabric of the gown she'd donned, pulling her hooded shawl tighter. She would leave, a course of action she assumed she had taken before. There were no kidnappers, were there? No sickness. No, her body was far too healthy even after the weeks, perhaps even months of starvation she had faced in that coastal city to belong to some sickly frail wilting flower. She had run away. She had chosen to leave this life behind and be free. Something had happened though, something she could not recall. She would repeat it. She would vanish into the breaking day, but this time she would not be taken back into custody.
“Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gasped audibly, followed by a slight cough at the influx of frigid air. She whirled, boots nearly tripping over one another before she caught herself. Her face flushed as she looked upon the face of the one who had addressed her. A slight smile crossed her lips as her cheeks further burned, pale eyes turning downward. "F-forgive me. I-I must look f-foolish." Was it lost she looked? Lost, confused? Neither a wholly wrong description. “Were you trying to find something?” She bit the inside of her cheek slightly, vision returning to his face as she searched his countenance for a brief moment. "N-no. Not part-ticularly." She would pause, her mouth opening before closing, debating her next words somewhat carefully before simply settling on. "I'm just l-leaving." The words were just above a whisper regardless.
Home.
A bittersweet sentiment now. One that felt more like a prison. It made her actually miss those filthy roads she sat at the side of. In comparison to this gilded cage and all its restrictive chains, that place offered whispers of freedom. Where her will could be her own, from the way she dressed and behaved to who it was she would spend the remainder of her life with. None would care there. She may have been nothing there, a worthless vagabond doomed to starvation and withering, but she would have been without what her mother had called familial duty. Death may have come, but it wouldn't find her an old woman, gray, aged and going blind from staring out a window all day. Watching the people unbound, becoming jealous of them. Telling the hours of the days forever by their comings and goings while she was kept under lock and key like her home was some ivory tower.
Her heart began to skip - to race. What was keeping her here? She had already slipped the watch of Aethelos. A thing she assumed to be a brittle thread if only to keep the complacency of their father. Peace of mind he had said. What peace of mind to him would it be should she be murdered or not? Married or not? Present or not? It wouldn't be. The notion had her numbed fingers coiling into the dense fabric of the gown she'd donned, pulling her hooded shawl tighter. She would leave, a course of action she assumed she had taken before. There were no kidnappers, were there? No sickness. No, her body was far too healthy even after the weeks, perhaps even months of starvation she had faced in that coastal city to belong to some sickly frail wilting flower. She had run away. She had chosen to leave this life behind and be free. Something had happened though, something she could not recall. She would repeat it. She would vanish into the breaking day, but this time she would not be taken back into custody.
“Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gasped audibly, followed by a slight cough at the influx of frigid air. She whirled, boots nearly tripping over one another before she caught herself. Her face flushed as she looked upon the face of the one who had addressed her. A slight smile crossed her lips as her cheeks further burned, pale eyes turning downward. "F-forgive me. I-I must look f-foolish." Was it lost she looked? Lost, confused? Neither a wholly wrong description. “Were you trying to find something?” She bit the inside of her cheek slightly, vision returning to his face as she searched his countenance for a brief moment. "N-no. Not part-ticularly." She would pause, her mouth opening before closing, debating her next words somewhat carefully before simply settling on. "I'm just l-leaving." The words were just above a whisper regardless.
NO ONE COMES HOME ANYMORE
TO CUT ME
Her thoughts were elsewhere, anywhere but here in the abysmal chill that nipped at her even through the thick furs that cloaked her shoulders. Her mind had wandered back to the ship that bore her here from across the sea, to the comforting creak and groan of the futtock as the waves brushed against the hull. It had been calming, a blissful ride, a paradise compared to living on the sand bitten streets. The days had been hot, miserable. The nights were frigid, yet without the lack of powdered white that dappled these ones. She thought she had been found, that she was returning home. That her ordeals and tribulations would be over. She could still recall the immense confusion she had felt as her mother had held her face within her hands and spoke to her in a language she could only barely understand a scattered word of. How she had smiled as the word home kept creeping across her tongue. Home. A place she couldn't remember but knew she longed for terribly.
Home.
A bittersweet sentiment now. One that felt more like a prison. It made her actually miss those filthy roads she sat at the side of. In comparison to this gilded cage and all its restrictive chains, that place offered whispers of freedom. Where her will could be her own, from the way she dressed and behaved to who it was she would spend the remainder of her life with. None would care there. She may have been nothing there, a worthless vagabond doomed to starvation and withering, but she would have been without what her mother had called familial duty. Death may have come, but it wouldn't find her an old woman, gray, aged and going blind from staring out a window all day. Watching the people unbound, becoming jealous of them. Telling the hours of the days forever by their comings and goings while she was kept under lock and key like her home was some ivory tower.
Her heart began to skip - to race. What was keeping her here? She had already slipped the watch of Aethelos. A thing she assumed to be a brittle thread if only to keep the complacency of their father. Peace of mind he had said. What peace of mind to him would it be should she be murdered or not? Married or not? Present or not? It wouldn't be. The notion had her numbed fingers coiling into the dense fabric of the gown she'd donned, pulling her hooded shawl tighter. She would leave, a course of action she assumed she had taken before. There were no kidnappers, were there? No sickness. No, her body was far too healthy even after the weeks, perhaps even months of starvation she had faced in that coastal city to belong to some sickly frail wilting flower. She had run away. She had chosen to leave this life behind and be free. Something had happened though, something she could not recall. She would repeat it. She would vanish into the breaking day, but this time she would not be taken back into custody.
“Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gasped audibly, followed by a slight cough at the influx of frigid air. She whirled, boots nearly tripping over one another before she caught herself. Her face flushed as she looked upon the face of the one who had addressed her. A slight smile crossed her lips as her cheeks further burned, pale eyes turning downward. "F-forgive me. I-I must look f-foolish." Was it lost she looked? Lost, confused? Neither a wholly wrong description. “Were you trying to find something?” She bit the inside of her cheek slightly, vision returning to his face as she searched his countenance for a brief moment. "N-no. Not part-ticularly." She would pause, her mouth opening before closing, debating her next words somewhat carefully before simply settling on. "I'm just l-leaving." The words were just above a whisper regardless.
Home.
A bittersweet sentiment now. One that felt more like a prison. It made her actually miss those filthy roads she sat at the side of. In comparison to this gilded cage and all its restrictive chains, that place offered whispers of freedom. Where her will could be her own, from the way she dressed and behaved to who it was she would spend the remainder of her life with. None would care there. She may have been nothing there, a worthless vagabond doomed to starvation and withering, but she would have been without what her mother had called familial duty. Death may have come, but it wouldn't find her an old woman, gray, aged and going blind from staring out a window all day. Watching the people unbound, becoming jealous of them. Telling the hours of the days forever by their comings and goings while she was kept under lock and key like her home was some ivory tower.
Her heart began to skip - to race. What was keeping her here? She had already slipped the watch of Aethelos. A thing she assumed to be a brittle thread if only to keep the complacency of their father. Peace of mind he had said. What peace of mind to him would it be should she be murdered or not? Married or not? Present or not? It wouldn't be. The notion had her numbed fingers coiling into the dense fabric of the gown she'd donned, pulling her hooded shawl tighter. She would leave, a course of action she assumed she had taken before. There were no kidnappers, were there? No sickness. No, her body was far too healthy even after the weeks, perhaps even months of starvation she had faced in that coastal city to belong to some sickly frail wilting flower. She had run away. She had chosen to leave this life behind and be free. Something had happened though, something she could not recall. She would repeat it. She would vanish into the breaking day, but this time she would not be taken back into custody.
“Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gasped audibly, followed by a slight cough at the influx of frigid air. She whirled, boots nearly tripping over one another before she caught herself. Her face flushed as she looked upon the face of the one who had addressed her. A slight smile crossed her lips as her cheeks further burned, pale eyes turning downward. "F-forgive me. I-I must look f-foolish." Was it lost she looked? Lost, confused? Neither a wholly wrong description. “Were you trying to find something?” She bit the inside of her cheek slightly, vision returning to his face as she searched his countenance for a brief moment. "N-no. Not part-ticularly." She would pause, her mouth opening before closing, debating her next words somewhat carefully before simply settling on. "I'm just l-leaving." The words were just above a whisper regardless.
YOUR TONGUE MUST BE SHARPER THAN THE THICK SKIN YOU MADE
TO CUT ME
Her thoughts were elsewhere, anywhere but here in the abysmal chill that nipped at her even through the thick furs that cloaked her shoulders. Her mind had wandered back to the ship that bore her here from across the sea, to the comforting creak and groan of the futtock as the waves brushed against the hull. It had been calming, a blissful ride, a paradise compared to living on the sand bitten streets. The days had been hot, miserable. The nights were frigid, yet without the lack of powdered white that dappled these ones. She thought she had been found, that she was returning home. That her ordeals and tribulations would be over. She could still recall the immense confusion she had felt as her mother had held her face within her hands and spoke to her in a language she could only barely understand a scattered word of. How she had smiled as the word home kept creeping across her tongue. Home. A place she couldn't remember but knew she longed for terribly.
Home.
A bittersweet sentiment now. One that felt more like a prison. It made her actually miss those filthy roads she sat at the side of. In comparison to this gilded cage and all its restrictive chains, that place offered whispers of freedom. Where her will could be her own, from the way she dressed and behaved to who it was she would spend the remainder of her life with. None would care there. She may have been nothing there, a worthless vagabond doomed to starvation and withering, but she would have been without what her mother had called familial duty. Death may have come, but it wouldn't find her an old woman, gray, aged and going blind from staring out a window all day. Watching the people unbound, becoming jealous of them. Telling the hours of the days forever by their comings and goings while she was kept under lock and key like her home was some ivory tower.
Her heart began to skip - to race. What was keeping her here? She had already slipped the watch of Aethelos. A thing she assumed to be a brittle thread if only to keep the complacency of their father. Peace of mind he had said. What peace of mind to him would it be should she be murdered or not? Married or not? Present or not? It wouldn't be. The notion had her numbed fingers coiling into the dense fabric of the gown she'd donned, pulling her hooded shawl tighter. She would leave, a course of action she assumed she had taken before. There were no kidnappers, were there? No sickness. No, her body was far too healthy even after the weeks, perhaps even months of starvation she had faced in that coastal city to belong to some sickly frail wilting flower. She had run away. She had chosen to leave this life behind and be free. Something had happened though, something she could not recall. She would repeat it. She would vanish into the breaking day, but this time she would not be taken back into custody.
“Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gasped audibly, followed by a slight cough at the influx of frigid air. She whirled, boots nearly tripping over one another before she caught herself. Her face flushed as she looked upon the face of the one who had addressed her. A slight smile crossed her lips as her cheeks further burned, pale eyes turning downward. "F-forgive me. I-I must look f-foolish." Was it lost she looked? Lost, confused? Neither a wholly wrong description. “Were you trying to find something?” She bit the inside of her cheek slightly, vision returning to his face as she searched his countenance for a brief moment. "N-no. Not part-ticularly." She would pause, her mouth opening before closing, debating her next words somewhat carefully before simply settling on. "I'm just l-leaving." The words were just above a whisper regardless.
Home.
A bittersweet sentiment now. One that felt more like a prison. It made her actually miss those filthy roads she sat at the side of. In comparison to this gilded cage and all its restrictive chains, that place offered whispers of freedom. Where her will could be her own, from the way she dressed and behaved to who it was she would spend the remainder of her life with. None would care there. She may have been nothing there, a worthless vagabond doomed to starvation and withering, but she would have been without what her mother had called familial duty. Death may have come, but it wouldn't find her an old woman, gray, aged and going blind from staring out a window all day. Watching the people unbound, becoming jealous of them. Telling the hours of the days forever by their comings and goings while she was kept under lock and key like her home was some ivory tower.
Her heart began to skip - to race. What was keeping her here? She had already slipped the watch of Aethelos. A thing she assumed to be a brittle thread if only to keep the complacency of their father. Peace of mind he had said. What peace of mind to him would it be should she be murdered or not? Married or not? Present or not? It wouldn't be. The notion had her numbed fingers coiling into the dense fabric of the gown she'd donned, pulling her hooded shawl tighter. She would leave, a course of action she assumed she had taken before. There were no kidnappers, were there? No sickness. No, her body was far too healthy even after the weeks, perhaps even months of starvation she had faced in that coastal city to belong to some sickly frail wilting flower. She had run away. She had chosen to leave this life behind and be free. Something had happened though, something she could not recall. She would repeat it. She would vanish into the breaking day, but this time she would not be taken back into custody.
“Afraid the shops don’t tend to open until about mid-morning. Might be a bit before anyone comes to set up.” She nearly swallowed her tongue as she gasped audibly, followed by a slight cough at the influx of frigid air. She whirled, boots nearly tripping over one another before she caught herself. Her face flushed as she looked upon the face of the one who had addressed her. A slight smile crossed her lips as her cheeks further burned, pale eyes turning downward. "F-forgive me. I-I must look f-foolish." Was it lost she looked? Lost, confused? Neither a wholly wrong description. “Were you trying to find something?” She bit the inside of her cheek slightly, vision returning to his face as she searched his countenance for a brief moment. "N-no. Not part-ticularly." She would pause, her mouth opening before closing, debating her next words somewhat carefully before simply settling on. "I'm just l-leaving." The words were just above a whisper regardless.
YOUR TONGUE MUST BE SHARPER THAN THE THICK SKIN YOU MADE
RE: Iron & Blood - Daesn'yri - 12-31-2023
|
i was a heavy heart to carry
my beloved was weighed down
RE: Iron & Blood - Daesn'yri - 12-31-2023
THE DREADED MAN DOG!!!!!!There was an emptiness to the air in Odersten of late. The streets were far more barren of faces, but many more paths wound through his door and crossed paths with his shelves. Draughts to help stave off the effects of magic. Vervain by the bunches, tonics to mute aches and other tinctures to help assuage the assault of pain. The city hummed with a palpable tension announced with the birth of the monarch's new heirs and the declaration that those involved in the draft were required to answer the call once more. He'd watched them file by with a certain kind of sickness curling like a balling fist within the pit of his belly. Some faces were better known than others, masks that he may never behold again and even those that did would be naught but ghosts haunting the familiarity of the skin the haunt of misery and tragedy deigned to sheathe itself within.Sometimes, women and children accompanied them. The younglings would skip, oblivious with the wool of vibrant youth to shield their eyes to the ways their mothers' arms crawled like a desperate vine about the man's elbow as if that alone would be enough to leash him to their family. If only it were so simply to become an anchor, dredging the bottom of the depths to stymie the tides of war. If only the tidal surges would be enough to not leave them snapped and lost where the sun no longer touched them in the long moonless night afterward. So it was that another tear stained face departed the counter with her bundles of luck and hopeful aid for the love she may never lay eyes on again hale, let alone whole. An extremely sad affair.
"Gods, I need a drink." The rugged mumble would be given life under his breath as he turned his attention to face the chime of the entrance bell once again. However, this time, no preemptively grieving widow-to-be was cloying with desperation clinging to her skirt tails. No, rather, there was a part of him that almost wished it was.
Though Huian was more than a welcome sight, his presence during business hours rarely boded well for him. He could only hope that this time would be a different tune.
Or he would really need that drink.
"And to what do I owe the pleasure today, Bossman?"
RE: Iron & Blood - Daesn'yri - 12-31-2023
There was an emptiness to the air in Odersten of late. The streets were far more barren of faces, but many more paths wound through his door and crossed paths with his shelves. Draughts to help stave off the effects of magic. Vervain by the bunches, tonics to mute aches and other tinctures to help assuage the assault of pain. The city hummed with a palpable tension announced with the birth of the monarch's new heirs and the declaration that those involved in the draft were required to answer the call once more. He'd watched them file by with a certain kind of sickness curling like a balling fist within the pit of his belly. Some faces were better known than others, masks that he may never behold again and even those that did would be naught but ghosts haunting the familiarity of the skin the haunt of misery and tragedy deigned to sheathe itself within.Sometimes, women and children accompanied them. The younglings would skip, oblivious with the wool of vibrant youth to shield their eyes to the ways their mothers' arms crawled like a desperate vine about the man's elbow as if that alone would be enough to leash him to their family. If only it were so simply to become an anchor, dredging the bottom of the depths to stymie the tides of war. If only the tidal surges would be enough to not leave them snapped and lost where the sun no longer touched them in the long moonless night afterward. So it was that another tear stained face departed the counter with her bundles of luck and hopeful aid for the love she may never lay eyes on again hale, let alone whole. An extremely sad affair.
"Gods, I need a drink." The rugged mumble would be given life under his breath as he turned his attention to face the chime of the entrance bell once again. However, this time, no preemptively grieving widow-to-be was cloying with desperation clinging to her skirt tails. No, rather, there was a part of him that almost wished it was.
Though Huian was more than a welcome sight, his presence during business hours rarely boded well for him. He could only hope that this time would be a different tune.
Or he would really need that drink.
"And to what do I owe the pleasure today, Bossman?"
RE: Iron & Blood - Daesn'yri - 01-14-2024
RE: Iron & Blood - Daesn'yri - 01-29-2024
RE: Iron & Blood - Daesn'yri - 01-29-2024
RE: Iron & Blood - Daesn'yri - 01-30-2024
A WREATH OF THORNS ADORNS THE DOOR
"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.
"Why?" said Fred keenly.
"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it.. . it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."
"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.
"Why?" said George impatiently.
"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."
"A bit of what?" said Ron.
But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.
"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.
"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with. . . one thing and another."
"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"
"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -"
"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you. . . . Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"
The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.
"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"
But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.
"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what --"
"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.
". . . Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do. . . ."
Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.
"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."
"Why?" said Fred keenly.
"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it.. . it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."
"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.
"Why?" said George impatiently.
"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."
"A bit of what?" said Ron.
But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.
"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.
"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with. . . one thing and another."
"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"
"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -"
"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.
The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.
"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"
But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.
"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what --"
"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.
Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.
"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."
NO ONE COMES HOME ANYMORE
A WREATH OF THORNS ADORNS THE DOOR
"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.
"Why?" said Fred keenly.
"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it.. . it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."
"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.
"Why?" said George impatiently.
"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."
"A bit of what?" said Ron.
But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.
"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.
"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with. . . one thing and another."
"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"
"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -"
"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.
"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you. . . . Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"
The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.
"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"
But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.
"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what --"
"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.
". . . Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do. . . ."
Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.
"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."
"Why?" said Fred keenly.
"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it.. . it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."
"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.
"Why?" said George impatiently.
"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."
"A bit of what?" said Ron.
But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.
"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.
"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with. . . one thing and another."
"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"
"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -"
"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.
The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.
"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"
But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.
"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what --"
"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.
Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.
"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."
NO ONE COMES HOME ANYMORE