05.16 @ 12:42pm
We are now allowing members to play on up to threeinternational teams (including Britain).
05.15 @ 9:25am
Activity checks are in progress. If you need a character reactivated, please post in maintenance. The Gossipmongering Hags are hiring!
5.13 @ 10:25pm
A newsletter has been posted regarding some new policies that will be implemented in the future.
5.05 @ 11:00am
It is important that our occupation history records are up-to-date. Please take a moment to double check that all of your characters are on them and their data accurate :)
5.01 @ 12:16 am
We're now accepting summer temporaries! Got a few summer adoptable? They have their own list this year! We're also in the month of May! Congrats to Anastasia and Olive who won Posting Wizard for April with 306 and 209 posts respectively!
04.28 @ 10:58am
Information on the QWC countries has been reposted to assist in the creation of international players!
Member No.: 569
Joined: 13-October 11
It had been quite some time since Grip had seen Oscar; he'd returned her wand to her in the Forbidden Forest, but hadn't seen her since, and he'd only talked to her through the one letter. It seemed like things were going pretty well for her, with her internship and having gotten through her sixth year of school, a massive achievement for any Slum kid. It looked like she was really going to make something of herself.
If only Grip could have said the same. Luckily the majority of the scarring was on his back and legs, which meant it was easy to cover; the scars that trickled up his neck and across his chin, much less so. They said he was lucky to still be alive, but with a half-gimp hand, it certainly didn't feel like it.
Cole was still gone on the Hogsmeade Trail, so he didn't know, yet. Grip hadn't had enough to write three letters, only two, and Oscar and Elsie seemed more important. Cole would find out when he got back, if he ever got back. Grip didn't know how long they were supposed to be gone. Someone had said that if Cole was still gone that was a good sign, because it meant he hadn't been injured yet. Someone else had said that maybe he had died. Grip didn't know. He didn't know most of what was going on in his life and what would become of him.
He did know, however, that he was going to get to see Oscar again, and that was a blessing. Another blessing was that between the scarring and his usual attempts to cover up the scarring, people never recognized him as the boy from the papers, anymore. Not a price he really would have wanted to pay, but a silver lining of sorts, in its way. Standing on the edges of the crowd around the bonfire, Grip tucked the scarf Elsie had made him tighter around his lower face (it was too hot for a scarf but he didn't want people to stare, so he'd manage); and wondered how he was supposed to find Oscarrine in this crowd.
Member No.: 258
Joined: 4-April 11
Oscarinne liked the carnival. They always brought so many exotic and mysterious things with them that she would never have a chance to see in her whole life. That was why she wanted to see Grip there: they could walk around the fair, steal some food and drinks and enjoy the evening.
The point is that she had no idea where they would meet. She was so excited upon receiving a letter from him that she dropped a glass of water on her boss at the Ministry’s Internship and after all she forgot to ask him where they will meet.
She walked around the fair several hours before she spotted a familiar figure in the crowd. “Hey Grip!” she shouted, using her elbows to get to him faster. Then she spotted something odd in his appearance. What was that? A scarf tugged around his face? What was going on, they had a beautiful weather, why did he wore a scarf? "What’s going on?"
Member No.: 569
Joined: 13-October 11
He'd only been in the crowd a few minutes--or did it only feel that way, as he lost himself staring off into the flickering flames of the bonfire?--when he noticed Oscar coming towards him. She seemed happy to see him, and he smiled in return, but remembered that she wouldn't be able to see his smile with this scarf in place. This revelation apparently occurred to him at the same time that Oscarrine noticed the scarf, because he could see the confusion grow on her face.
"Nothin's on," he replied, a little defensively, but then regretted it immediately. Of course, Oscar hadn't seen yet. Oscar didn't know. Looking around the crowd, Grip reached out to take her hand and pull her away from the rest of them, towards a section of the fairgrounds that was slightly less crowded. "I tol' ya in tha letter," he said through his scarf. "I tol' ya I messed up."
Finally finding a place that he assumed no one else would notice him, he took a breath and tugged the scarf off of the lower half of his face, revealing his scars, the rippling hard skin folded across his jaw and neck. These weren't the worst, but he knew they were hideous enough, and probably Oscar would never see the others. The worst scars were on his back, and not even Grip had to see those, since they didn't have a mirror or anything of the sort in the Slums. The ones on his hand were bad because they hurt his dexterity, hurt his ability to cut purses and use matches, but for the most part, people didn't look at other people's hands, so that these were really the least of his problems.
He had no idea how Oscar would react. Surely she'd be okay with them? Her, of all people. Oscar would still want to hang out with him.
Not giving her time to tell him otherwise, Grip started winding the scarf around his jaw again. "So you got an internship, eh, tha's good. Yewl have a Min'sty job in no time, I bet. Bet they pay well, eh?" He laughed, a little hollowly. His chances of getting a real job had plumetted, as if they weren't low enough already being a supposed-rapist. "So what'd you want to do?"