Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal open job1

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DEC. 23rd, TUE__________ __________ HOGWARTS EXPRESS
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___ ___ SPEAKING • THINKING • OTHER DIALOGUE @Elmo Break “SELLING HOLIDAY SWEETS IN THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS,”

STA 4 • EVA 10 STR 3 • WIS 8 ARC 7 • ACC 8 [ADVANCED CASTING] [PERFECTIONIST] ❝ holiday-themed sweets ❞

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“ 𝕸ethinks the hands that shut the sun ???So sternly from this morning's brow Might still their rebel task have done ???And checked a thing so frail as thou,”  Months passed by in the quickest of ways.  One could be gazing from the high windows of the Hogwarts castle, watching the yellowish-orange leaves in autumn, their eyes mindlessly following its descent. A blink, then the aforementioned leaves will switch to snowflakes; these leaves no longer litter the ground except the white blanket of crystallised snow that accumulated there. One would wonder the inner workings of the passage of time; how it affected one's everyday life.  Why do you have so much power over me?  It is one of the questions that Aurelia Valentine pondered almost every day. Time never works in her favour—usually. She wished it was tangible, something she could grab a hold of and never let go so it will pause forevermore. Pause to a season like autumn; autumn for eternity sounds whimsical. The young badger never preferred winter, ignoring the wintry beauty of her surroundings, as she deemed the season more inconvenient than aesthetic.  “What do you think comes after that verse, Stalker? I have been reciting that poem of Emily Brontë for a week. You should have memorised it by now,” Aurelia muttered through her thick, cerulean scarf, a visible puff of air emerging from her trembling lips. Upon seeing this, the young badger buried half of her pale face in the fabric, the tip of her nose and ears slightly pinkish from the cold.  Stalker is her pet cat she adopted from the busy street of Diagon Alley last February, a clever feline with black fur that covered its lithe body. It stopped snowing as soon as Aurelia left the Courtyard, and the feline immediately jumped out of the warm comfort of her arms to play in the snow as they both trudged down the path towards Hogsmeade station. It is December 23rd—meaning all Hogwarts students are given the choice to go home for the holidays in order to celebrate them with family and loved ones. Aurelia did not go home last year out of spite for her mother. But this year, the young badger briskly packed her belongings and possessions necessary for her quick Christmas vacation, her eagerness to go back to Croydon in this small time frame overpowering any animosity she felt for the town that inherently excluded her.  The soles of her winter boots dug through the accumulated snow, stomping them enthusiastically on the marbled platform as soon as she arrived at the Hogsmeade Station. Her dark brown eyes scoured the vicinity, noticing all the other students happily chattering with their friends, all snug in their thick garments of coats and sweaters. Seems like there are only a small portion of students going home for the holidays. It never occurred to her that this must be because of the Winter Carnival commencing in Hogsmeade for a week now, small colourful booths standing in the Main Square, offering promises of entertainment for the gawkers and gossipmongers.

??

She did take note of the holiday decorations near the gates. With Stalker now in her arms, the young Hufflepuff witch hopped the train with an eagerness of a small child about to open their presents for Christmas. It swirled in her small heart that it is almost overwhelming, the type where she desired to squeal from the top of her lungs. Everything is going so well for her. However, it would be foolish to anticipate it to stay like this for eternity.  “They would have done it had they known ???The Talisman that dwelt in thee, For all the suns that ever shown  ???Have never been so kind to me!”  Her mind is already gallivanting with the prospect of lounging in the comfort of her home, enjoying desserts her Mum could bake until she developed diabetes.  Aurelia was snapped out of her reverie when she saw other students huddling over something and plugging the train corridor. In no rush at all, she tiptoed in order to peek over their big heads. A box of assortment of sweets immediately caught her attention, being sold over a small cart.  A thoughtful hum escaped her. The young badger has never eaten the sweets the Wizarding World offered to its constituents. Not because of her almost non-existent sweet tooth, but because she already witnessed other students consuming them. They are always subjected to inexplicable effects that look almost painful from the outside perspective. She did not want to experience anything of the sort. She never understood the allure, as she noticed that all of them consume them otherwise from time to time. They are being sold from the upperclassmen for unreasonable prices too. Which is suspicious; it poses the possibility of those sweets being smuggled inside the castle from Merlin-knows-where. Cordelia, her mother, would enjoy such dangerous sweets, though. When Aurelia mentioned them in one of her letters, she remembered her writing back with implications that she desired to try some of them.  Her face scrunched up. Dark eyes squinted as the young badger looked at the trolley in suspicion. The badger heard Stalker emit an irritated meow, asking to be put down. She immediately obliged, still contemplating if she should buy something.  She fished out her leather pouch from her pockets as she picked a handful of some of the harmless looking candies. Surely no one would sell a digestible which could possibly send a person to the hospital ward, right? Meh, that is rather a naïve thought. Aurelia knew who to sue.  Then, she paused.  “Work out a price? I am not even familiar with the market prices of these sweets,” Aurelia blurted out thoughtlessly, eyeing the sign plastered on the side of the trolley. She immediately regrets voicing out her thoughts, as admitting ignorance is a sure way to be scammed and hustled. She looked up at the seller with her eyebrows furrowed, acknowledging the unfamiliar but otherwise imposing, tall figure.  Oh.

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ISSUE NO. 001________________________________________________ 8 SICKLES
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code by the amazing Adeline Spinks
1,004 wc
OOC: I got lazy writing by the half of this.

Made by the wonderful @Ara Villa here.

Elmo sighed. Good god these kids were getting on his very last nerves. Why must they have such drilling voices that drilled deep into his head. He wanted to down another bottle, but no. No, he needed to keep his focus straightforward. "I don't care if you agreed to being the spellcasting dummies I test on or not. Give me all of your money and I will give you a reasonable exchange of sweets. That's all I want you to do." He silently stared at Bree, did not even whip out his wand, his mouth did not move, and with a tap on the cart, he mentally casted Obliviate on her, wiping her memory of the previous encounter between the two where she had disagreed with him.

The past five minutes, pretty much, would be forgotten. And Elmo did not care. "Hi, I'm Elmo and I'm the Candyman." He repeated, to Bree. "Just 19 galleons for a bag of Bertie Bott's winter mix! It sounds yummy, doesn't it?!"

He turned towards Anna and growled. "Buy something. Anything, damn it!" No, he did not really need the job, it would be nice to hold one down but he knew that his family legacy had money that would be passed down to him and that was all that mattered, whether he was fired or not.

He turned towards Zephyr and Jrue. "Yes, I'm charging 15 galleons for a glass of butterbeer, the winter mix, the normal butterbeer is going to be 29 galleons. If you want a drink, keep in mind that the prices goes towards a very important charity." He paused, but then smiled maliciously. (do not click if easily triggered, tw bug) "Me. So pay up, before I hope that maggots crawl out of the cavities in your teeth or the holes that will be found there."

His words were not laced with sweetness. He wanted to appear threatening. He wanted their money. Elmo deserved the money.

He held the bag of beans in Jrue's face and grinned, his yellowed teeth the highlight of the evening, shining brighter than the lights of the train. He looked at Valentines and whispered. "2 galleons per bean in this bag if you want it, 3 galleons per milliliter if you want any of the drinks." He remembered these students from class, just a faded recollection of them but he still recognized them regardless.

He addressed all five now. "Pay up, or you suffer the same fate that this," He was hinting at Bree if anyone would realize, if they were even paying attention. "child did."

Reducio

Mentions: @Elmo Break@Aurelia Valentine@Zephyr Deakin@Bree Grey@Jrue Peterson

Reducio

Azrael is NOT a dhampir or a vampire, he's just weird, his skin is sensitive to the sun because he and his family are loners and prefer going out sometimes at night only because it usually means that not a lot of people are around, which has caused his skin to not get used to the sun properly and thus now it gets red and irritated when he's out during the day if he doesn't have any protection from the sun- yes, he's considered unsettling and eerie but it's not his aura, it's his eyes, they're big and owl like and he has a bad habit of accidentally spacing out and staring at people intently when they talk, so people consider him eerie, this was placed here to prevent misunderstandings.

Azrael didn't even think about going home for his first year of Hogwarts...it was already something that was ingrained in his mind, not because he was expected to- simply because he and his family have always been close...who wouldn't want to go home when your parents are practically your best friends?

Still, he wasn't thrilled about having to walk all the way down from the castle- specially in the morning- and having to carry his pet owl Ravenna on his shoulder on top of it all...still, he isn't complaining- at least not verbally.

He's gripping his umbrella in one hand, making sure to angle it so it covers him from the morning sun rays casting down and directly onto anything in the way.
Umbrella:
He HATES having to be up early in the morning, especially when he stayed up all night doing...well, nothing really, he just couldn't sleep because he was bored and not tired at all.

But it's not like he has a choice, does he? Just as he's heading down, he hears multiple people talking- and so he lifts his umbrella slightly, giving him a view of who was making a ruckus...

Someone was selling sweets! Great, Azrael likes sweets- and he has money, so maybe he can buy some for the way? Surely they aren't expensive if there's already multiple people near the man selling them.

Quietly, like always, he approaches them- lifting his head as he comes up behind the older man... lifting his hand and gently tapping his shoulder, his big, owl like eyes staring unblinkingly up at him, waiting patiently for him to turn around and acknowledge him.

Has he blinked the whole way down? Not really, is he going to? Probably not, hopefully he doesn't accidentally startle someone though (like he always does).
_______________________••__________________§- ".. excuse me, sir."
_______________________••__________________Azrael spoke, voice calm and monotone like always as he continued-
_______________________••__________________§- ".. correct me if I'm wrong, but are you selling sweets?"
_______________________••__________________he always seems to have money on him, his parents are always sending him some...even though he doesn't usually buy things for himself, his parents always insist on at least sending him a few galleons.

After all, he's always helping out friends who need a few galleons here and there.

So it never really hurts to have some in hand-

As he patiently waited for a response, Ravenna (his pet owl, currently on his shoulder) made a low "hoot" sound, staring at the man in front of them, her expression mirroring her owner's equally monotone one...

It's kind of eerie y'know? How they both haven't even blinked once? Or maybe how the bird keeps trying to make eye contact with anyone who stares at it.

"The Sun's shadow knows no fear, no dawn. Is the watcher always watched, or simply drawn?" -About Azrael

Banner by the lovely Lottie Winfield

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mentions.@Elmo Break @Zephyr Deakin @Azrael Holloway notes. Merry Christmas Everyone! song. White Christmas by Michael Bublé actions. xx December 23rd Hogwarts Express.

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More students had gathered at the candy cart since Jrue and Zephyr had walked there together. This fellow, Elmo. was a weird, freaky wizard. Who let him on the Hogwarts Express? There was no way Headmaster Lear would've allowed this weirdo on if he had a say. "Buy something, anything, Damn it!" Jrue flinched, brushing her shoulder against Zephyr's protectively. "Jeez, this guys kinda scary..." She clutched her wand in her hand roughly, thumbing the swirly design on the handle.

With every snide remark the strange dark haired man made, Jrue was more concerned. Who did he think he was with that hook? When he turned to her and Zep, Jrue bristled, her scarf being used more and more as a shield as he glared at the two. 29 Galleons?? Who did he think she was, Minister for Magic? She bent her knee towards the other, crossing her arms. "Uh.. Yeah.. the beans and two.. Christmas, Butterbeers, I guess..." She raised her eyebrows, looking down then back up at him, retrieving the coins necessary for her treat. "An Important Charity? Really?" She asked, skeptically, watching Elmo grin creepily at her.

"Oh my God!" She covered her mouth, running her tongue over her teeth, fangs popping out and her shoulders bristling uncomfortably. Maggots, this guy was a psycho! Threatening little kids? Kids who could hardly defend themselves? ...She didn't have cavities- well, that she knew of. She turned to Zephyr, stunned, then flashed her head back to Elmo and pointed her finger at him harshly. "Who do you think you are? We're JUST kids. Who want CANDY. Not to be intimidated by- by- by a one eyed freak," She spat, holding the wand up and pointing in at Elmo as he pushed the beans towards her. "Zephyr, hold me back before I hex him and make him dance till he's sore-" Her face was red now, the emotions overwhelming her system.

Azrael walked up to the cart next, his Umbrella spotable from a mile away. She huffed at the creep, turning around after slamming the money onto the cart's top. She spotted her friend, cheeks still pink. "Oh! Azrael! God, just the person I needed to see. I wouldn't give him your money if I were you-" she turned around and glared at Elmo, then faced her pale friend and whisper shouted so the creep could hear, "RUN, HE'S GONNA TURN YOU INTO A SHRIMP, RUN-" She sniffed, shaking her head.

459/200
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