roleplaying as approved ilvermorny inpc cyrus darsel

my ducks?
in a row. ordered.


pathetic.


Cyrus's summer had been going rather swimmingly, if he were honest. He had spent some time with his aunt here in London, a surprise to both of them, to attend a wedding; later, he had visited Ireland with her to grow better acquainted with her magical family. The best thing about the small village the Carey family was from was that there were so many animals. And the nature in County Galway had been right lovely. Cyrus hadn't wanted to leave, even though he knew that for the next phase of his travels, he would have to. Then, he'd done the alumni broom race, which had been fun but had also happened to reinforce his fear of heights.

The day before he would leave for Egypt, Cyrus visited Madam Malkin in Diagon Alley in search of some proper travelling clothes. Although his beloved graphic tees and jeans filled his trunk nearly to the brim, he knew that if he were going to explore wizarding culture as well as Muggle culture, he would have to diversify his assets, so to speak. Given that, as he peered between articles of clothing, he wanted something, anything, that would be normal for a wizard.

When he entered the shop, he had known his bright-pink tee with two ducks and a goose on it would stick out like a sore thumb. His cargo shorts were probably not a much better look. And, to make matters worse, the first thing he saw was a lovely blue cravat; his fingers brushed over it, and he picked it up, placing it near his neck as he meandered towards a mirror. He hummed softly to himself as he turned around, but he quickly jumped out of the way to avoid bumping into someone, and he ended up crashing into an accessories rack, which quickly fell to the ground in a harsh clatter.

'Gadzooks!' he exclaimed, bending over to start to pick up the rack. 'I'm so sorry!' he cried to nearby shoppers.

He had thought everything would be fine until he heard a small throat-clear from behind him. He turned, eyebrows raised, to see what was possibly the most judgemental child he'd ever witnessed.

'Oh, um. Sorry. Am I in your way?'



Setting: Late August 2025. Mid-morning.
Interactions: @Livia Machavariani

date: august 2025
time: mid-morning
location: madam malkin


Before she could finish packing for the 'summer camp' her parents had compelled her into attending, Livia first needed to acquire adequate vestments for her introduction to solitude in wizarding society. Her family had acquiesced to her desire to shop, for once, unescorted; her parents, then, brought Julian to the nearby ice-cream parlour, an endeavour in which their partaking garnered Livia's appreciation. Livia waved a quick goodbye before turning on her heel and heading towards Madam Malkin's, her skirts billowing behind her as she increased the pace at which she strode.

As she entered the establishment, slowly letting the door swing shut behind her, what greeted her was not the soft ambiance of moving fabrics, but rather the precise wham of a clothing rack clobbering the ground. Livia stared unabashedly at the intrusion before directing her gaze to the offender—a young man, rather tall, who wore the most garish pink shirt she had ever seen, and seemed to be shouting apologies. Livia fought the urge to roll her eyes and instead directed herself towards a small assortment of black work robes in the back.

The young man in question did not seem to understand the importance of letting staff clean up messes, as he began to busy himself with the problem he had created. His height resulted in a quite massive block in what would have otherwise been an unobstructed aisle, and Livia would never have deigned to step over him. Thus, she stared down at him and cleared her throat.

That he stared up at her and apologised was not unexpected, but Livia still had to refrain from outwardly expressing her annoyance. She inhaled deeply before she spoke. 'Not in my way. However, I must opine that your...' She gestured to his current state where he was half-lying on the ground. '...current predicament mustn't be beneficial to anyone. Haven't you got a wand? Erecto would work rather well in this scenario.'

roleplaying as approved ilvermorny inpc cyrus darsel

my ducks?
in a row. ordered.


pathetic.


The girl, though young, was an apt problem solver, just as Cyrus had been when he was her age. He found himself nodding in spite of her holier-than-thou attitude, shooting her a wry, conspiratorial grin. ''Y'know what, young padawan? You're right.'

He stood up to his full height (which did, in fact, tower over the girl's), and he took his wand out from the pocket of his cargo shorts. 'Check this out!'

With dramatic flourishes and wide movements, Cyrus pointed his wand at the mess in front of him. 'Erecto!' he exclaimed, oblivious to the shopgoers that were now staring at him and his youthful accomplice.

He grinned as the structure almost immediately began to move back into place. Accessories hung themselves on the rack, and soon enough, the ground was squeaky clean. His wand gave a small squeak as he tapped it to his heart and gave a well-earned bow to the onlookers. Looking back to the girl, he laughed. 'Now that's what I call magic!'

Cyrus reached back to the accessories rack, realising the cravat he'd wanted to purchase had gone back to its former place on the rack. He plucked it off and glanced at the price tag—it was nothing too outrageous, especially considering the quality of the fabric and the soft blue colour. He wondered momentarily... if he were to send one to Haven, would she think of him every time she wore it? Could women even wear cravats in wizarding society.

He turned to the strange girl again. Given her knowledge of the spell, and how spellcasting had been her first instinct even without an apparent wand, Cyrus decided he would ask her opinion on the matter. Um, miss... what's your name? Anyway, I'm not super in with wizard fashion. You look like you know what you're doing. So... can women wear cravats and stuff?'



Setting: Late August 2025. Mid-morning.
Interactions: @Livia Machavariani

date: august 2025
time: mid-morning
location: madam malkin


No sentiment other than 'peculiar' could even begin to truly describe the bombastic, flamboyant, rather colourful individual that this young man was proving himself to be. Livia stared in dismay as he referred to her as a 'young padawan', whatever that was supposed to mean, and she bit back a grimace when he told her to 'check this out' and began swinging his wand around in horrifically unpractised strokes. If he moved any faster, he would likely break something. However, despite his undisciplined approach, the rack did move back into place. Livia leered at it but said nothing.

The giddy, giggling gremlin almost reminded her of her brother – if, of course, Julian were hardly well-adjusted. Normal people did not burst into giggles like that! And at just a simply-cast Erecto. Certainly if something were to be funny, it was not that. Now, if there were a frog hopping about all of a sudden, Livia would have understood the laughter.

Assuming the unscrupulous homo sapien had encountered peace and tranquility, Livia excused herself to explore more of the shop's fashionable offerings. Although three 'plain black work robes' were inscribed upon the shopping list the school had sent out, she did not deign to acquire just those; she required something tasteful. Her gaze caught upon a green silk scarf, and she reached out for it; her fingers brushed against soft fabric, and she caught a pearl between her thumb and index finger. She did not smile, but she did gaze upon it with balanced intrigue.

The young man's aggravatingly ecstatic tone drew her out of her reverie. Slowly, she turned her head to level a stare at him. 'Livia – and of course,' she said flatly. This man was surely an ignoramus if he thought otherwise. 'But you're not a woman, so why does it matter to you?'

roleplaying as approved ilvermorny inpc cyrus darsel

my ducks?
in a row. ordered.


pathetic.


Cyrus was very, very good at not being judgemental. He was so good at it, in fact, that the Livia girl's flat, rude, hurtful response did not make him think any less of her or her surely cold upbringing. To each their own, after all, even if this child looked like she could use a healthy dose of sunshine and rainbows. She was so serious – had she laughed before in her life? Did she even understand the joy of whimsy? Of interacting with others and valuing other humans just as much, if not more, than oneself? Her existence must have been very boring and sad, and Cyrus was determined to make it better. 'Okay, well, I'm not a woman, so I wouldn't know.'

Yeah, yeah. It wasn't a banger comeback. But he was never one for comebacks! In fact, his horrible comeback just solidified the girl's point. 'It's not like you'd know what it's like to be nice to others –' Too harsh? Maybe too harsh. Cyrus gulped, and his cheeks reddened. 'Well, you know. You've gotta buy stuff for others sometimes. It builds character and widens perspective! So I'm wanting to buy my girlfriend some accessories. You do know what a girlfriend is, right?'

It wasn't the girl's surely young age that made Cyrus wonder how much she knew about human interaction. It was the flatness of her voice and the lack of fantastical fun in her actions. By the grace of Twilight Sparkle, he would hardly have been surprised if she didn't know what the magic of friendship was, and this was an utter tragedy that he had to rectify.

'I'm not gonna strongarm you into it or anything, 'cos that's mean, but if you want to try to help me pick something out, that would be nice. Or if you'd like advice on your own clothes – I think a pop of colour could help you out, maybe a hair accessory to bring out your eyes.'



Setting: August 2025. Mid-morning.
Interactions: @Livia Machavariani

date: august 2025
time: mid-morning
location: madam malkin


Had Livia been older than this incredibly rude young man, she would have deigned to inform him that he ought to speak without such a dreadful tone lingering against his words. She opened her mouth, beginning to interrupt the ebullient young man with, 'Well, I simply must opine –' that you are, of course, mistaken, she would have finished, but her verbosity failed her, as he kept speaking. She had no desire to remain still and listen to his promulgations, but, with a sigh, she acquiesced.

Dear Merlin, Livia could hardly recall the last time someone had dared to insult her in such a manner. She grit her teeth instead of gasping. This idiotic excuse of a man knew nothing. Livia opened her mouth, primed to offer a scathing response, but, then, he asked if she knew what a girlfriend was. He seemed relatively open to letting the young girl offer fashion advice. Even if his opinions were a bit too on his sleeve for Livia's fancy, she considered her options, and she decided she did not have anything better to do.

Ignoring his comments regarding her outfit, Livia pursed her lips and began to properly peruse the shop's products. Her fingers brushed over a set of intriguing, mysterious black robes, but, given that the man had already made disparaging comments regarding her outfit, Livia doubted lingering on such an object for too long would benefit her. She shifted her attention to a bright yellow dress and began to scrutinise it. Mr Sunshine was certainly the type of individual who might have liked yellow; if his supposed 'girlfriend' were anything like him, Livia assumed such a dress would suit her fancy. 'Of course I know what a girlfriend is,' she muttered, then adding, 'and, given your ever-bright demeanour, I assume she might like this dress. It is about the colour of a sunflower, and, when tailored, would have quite a lovely fit. Plus, it is not too expensive, although tailoring would certainly lift the price.' Livia paused, momentarily unsure of just how much she wished to assist this young man. However, she did add, 'A pair of dainty heels in a similar colour, or perhaps in black or white, and then a lovely corsage, would certainly make the look. What do you think?'