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07.01 07.21 QWC: France vs. Japan
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07.31 Student Staff Announced
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· NEWS ·
07.25 @ 10:07am
Reminder: Posting and new registration abilities will be turned OFF tomorrow 07/26 at 6pm CST as we begin the moving process. The cbox will still work - you can check there for updates or our tumblr.


07.23 @ 6:13pm
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»  here's to never growing up, private
Imogen van Helsing
Posted: Jul 22 2013, 09:26 PM


Lower Class — Daily Prophet Photographer
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Group: Hogsmeade
Posts: 109
Member No.: 1,369
Joined: 7-August 12



Immie absentmindedly stirred the brownish contents of her teacup in silence, her mind reeling with thoughts and questions as to the occurrence that had taken place earlier that morning when Fraser Gallagher decided to pay her a visit. He had confessed that he had been aware that she harbored no other feelings for him other than friendship, and that he was content to stay as such, but there was no denying the fact that he would honestly do anything for her if she asked him to and that he would always be present and prepared to catch her should she ever fall - he truly and genuinely loved her both as a friend and an admirer, but she felt immeasurably guilty that she would never be able to return his affections. She supposed that she could come to learn to love Fraser, but she believed that forcing her heart to love him would be an injustice to the both of them, and not to mention that she would risk losing his friendship and his companionship altogether.

Other than confess to her of his feelings that she had already been aware that existed, Fraser had also proceeded to inform her of a few of her faults he believed that with some correction, her life would be much more simpler. Her nails dug into the wooden exterior of the table as irritation flared within her. Apparently she trusted men too easily and based her self-worth upon them as if they were her main source of life. He informed her that she was beautiful (she resisted the urge to openly snort) and unique and distinguished - three adjectives she had never thought could be applied to her. The correct words she would have used to describe herself with would be clingy, difficult, uninteresting, and worthless. She would not pretend to misunderstand the reason why Edmond and Shawn had deserted her - she did not deserve their love, and she could not begin to understand why she had believed that she would deserve their affections in the first place.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Immie pushed her teacup and saucer away in defeat, not feeling particularly parched and slightly nauseated. As her hazel-brown orbs stared blankly ahead as her conscience once again began whirring with thoughts she was unsure she would particularly like burdening her family or friends with - these were own sufferings, after all. However, despite it all, she could not help but recall that she had only recently started coming to terms with Shawn’s absence, and all of the sudden, another man enters her life and confesses that he loves her? A part of her warned her that in order to keep her heart from being broken, she should not readily trust Fraser as she had her previous lovers. Another part of her, however, argued that Fraser had been a part of her life for nigh on eight years and that she should not be so reluctant in acknowledging his affections. The whole affair was all so confusingly vexing to Immie that her right wand hand unconsciously formed into a tight fist, the visible purplish-blue veins indicating how tense she seemed to be.

She had to - no, needed to confide in someone, but who? Swiveling her gaze over to her mother who was assisting the younger of her children with their reading skills, Immie came to the conclusion that her mother was far too occupied by other obligations that she did not desire to add any more pressure on the middle-age woman’s hectic and troublesome life. Next her eye caught the sight of her favorite younger brother and sister, Adrian and Brigitta, whom were both playing a game of wizard's chess and speaking merrily about the upcoming Quidditch match between Egypt and France, and whom they believed would win the final Quidditch World Cup game. With a curt shake of her head, Immie decided that it would not be just if she ruined either of their summers because she was unable to handle her own life struggles. Of course, there was always her favorite cousin, Sophronia, or one of her other female relatives, but for some unfathomable reason, she did not feel as if she could openly confide in them - at least, not as open as she would be with Mac MacFusty.

Allowing her wandering gaze to settle upon the figure of Cecilia, another one of her younger siblings, whom was playing a relaxing melody upon the piano, Immie began think of a good reason as to why she should abruptly appear on Mac’s doorstep. She was lonely? Immie internally laughed to herself as she looked about the parlor - no, she most certainly was not alone, but that did not necessarily imply that she was not lonely. She desired to witness whether or not the dog she had given him was in good hands? She rolled her eyes. Of course the dog was fine! Mac can be described in many words, but abusive or neglectful was never one of them - besides, the man also possessed attentive servants. She just wanted to talk about her problems and allow him to console her?

Well, there is only one way to find out, she thought to herself as she hoisted her body from the plush armchair before going to stand in front of her mother. Bending down to peck the middle-aged woman on the cheek, she informed, “I’m going out, Mother. I’ll be back a little later. Do not be alarmed if I neglect to be home in time for supper.” She laid a hand on both of her boys’ heads, and gave Leo a warning look that implied that he should behave himself while she was gone before strolling out the parlor and outside of her family’s large mansion.

As soon as she was outside, Immie closed her eyes and mentally envisioned Mac’s large home on an island in the Hebrides, her intended destination. Immie had never been particularly fond of Apparition, having always preferred the floo network and riding on her broomstick as her two main methods of transportation, but apparating seemed necessary at that moment and she really wanted to see Mac. She knew that she was apparating when she suddenly felt herself being pressed by some invisible force on all directions; her lungs felt as if they were being forcibly squeezed, and her eyes and ears felt as if they were being pushed back into her skull - it was most definitely not her favorite form of travel.

The apparition could have taken all but a minute before she began smelling the sea salt from the ocean and the steady drip drops of rain upon her face as she immediately fell to her knees, feeling quite nauseous and gasping for air. There was no way she was going to once again endure that type of traveling torture returning back to Hogsmeade. She would either inquire of Mac whether or not his fireplace was still connected to hers or she would beg him to allow her to spend the night, and she would deal with travel once the morning approached.

After feeling that she was composed enough to walk the rest of the way to Mac’s doorstep (the rain was also beginning to come down harder), Immie pushed herself up from the ground and looked around at her surroundings. She had never taken the time to appreciate the beauty that was Mac’s home - even after she and her twins had come to see his dragons - and she had to admit that if she had been given the chance to, she would not mind living on an island. Unless one lived near a seaside resort, an island had very few residents, which meant less judgement and criticism she would not have to deal with - she believed that living on an island would be much more bearable, and not to mention, preferable to a bustling and overpopulated little village such as Hogsmeade.

Maybe Mac would let the twins and I live with him...That’s a welcoming prospect,, she thought as she rapped the knocker twice upon the sturdy oak door, but then she realized that perhaps residing with Mac would not be appealing to him. Their living together would greatly resemble his and Roxana’s situation, but minus the part where she would be expecting his child. “Is Malcolm MacFusty in?,” she inquired outright as soon as a servant opened the door, and she crossed the threshold when the servant confirmed that Mac was home. She was not in the Entrance Hall long before her ears became aware of the sound of feet padding across the floor and quick panting, and she had some idea of whom the intruder could be. Cautiously turning herself around, Immie was unprepared for when a large figure with a great amount of brown fur came flying at her, eagerly licking her face in greeting.

Words: 1,513 | Tag: MAC | Outfit: here


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