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We are a Harry Potter-based, post-book game set in the present day. Lord Voldemort has been defeated and the wizarding world is back to business as usual, and business as usual for thousands of underaged wizards and witches world-wide means skipping school, drinking, cheating, stealing, and fighting. Play as an inmate, a marshal, or one of the creatures native to the island.

Welcome to Furiae Correctional Facility, the only international institution that will whoop your children so you don't have to.

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 Jogging for Inner Peace, [finished]
Frondie Engel
Posted: Jun 2 2011, 11:24 AM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Tisiphone)
Posts: 57
Member No.: 61
Joined: 1-June 11



It was a brisk and cool morning around the grounds of the facility. The hour was ungodly, just before 6 in the morning, and the frozen dew was still causing the blades of grass unto Frondie feet to crunch with ever ginger step forward. Making her way down the hallways had been a lonely experience. There were no classes today, it was Sunday, and Miss Engel was going to take advantage of her first free day since she had arrived at this dastardly dump. Walking across the lawn she looked around, her fogs of breath spouting lightly from her nostrils with every exhale into the chilly atmosphere. The ambiance in this place was much different that California, this was for sure. The cold was almost unbearable, though she had experienced weather like this before when the Cali winter decided to grow a wild hair. Her attire, unfortunately, was just a bleak and gray as the rest of this place. The suicide rate here must be higher than Washington State. At least it wasn't raining, though the sky honestly didn't look too promising. Pulling her gray cloak tighter over her narrow shoulders she walked on, looking around for any sort of trail, or at least more scenic area, in which she could enjoy her morning jog. Her body circled, her eyes whirling around. Nothing, nothing but ocean and trees. Venturing into the woods was out of the question, especially since she hadn't quite got the knack of her new wand yet.

Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, feeling the air freeze her insides. Counting to three in her head she pulled off her robe and placed it upon the ground. Who would want to take it anyway? Beneath she was in the standard issue shirt and pant, just as grey and boring as the robe she had just removed. The shirt she had tied around her torso just above her belly button, so as to keep it from flapping about as she jogged. She also had her pants rolled up into a pair of knee high shorts. Frondie began to stretch, leaning over she did a five-second toe touch. Then, lifting and bending her leg behind her, she grabbed her foot and pulled it up to almost her shoulders, stretching her thighs. Feeling this was good enough, as the air was beginning to send a gaggle of goose pimples across her tan flesh, she shook her arms out a little then began to jog at a good steady pace towards the edge of the forest. Upon reaching the edge she turned, and simply followed the outer trail of trees around until she reached the river. Stopping for a moment she peered into the water, her eyes following it up into the woods. Perhaps she could follow this river, it wasn't exactly beautiful but it was better than seeing that damned building.

Taking one last look over her shoulder, way back she could still see that lump of grey which was her cloak. Shrugging she pulled a hair-tie from her pocket and pulled her waist-length blonde hair into a high ponytail, that still trailed down to nearly the middle of her back. Then, she took off, jogging at the same stable pace as before, following the river's bank into the woods towards the lake. Her ponytail flipped and flopped and twirled behind her like a superheroes cape, and her eyes were barely open. The second wind was starting to catch her, that familiar adrenaline rush. Letting her eyes flutter a little further shut she thought of her happy place. A mind's image came rushing to her, and she could almost feel the heat of the sun; or perhaps she was simply warming up from the jog. Frondie was just barely paying attention to her surroundings now. Her parent's beautiful five acre yard, it was like her own personal grassy plain. Even in her teens she would stand out there, the wide open space, the warm air and gentle breeze making her long hair and sundress dance. Sometimes she too, would dance. Veela dances that were instructed to her as a young girl, back in the commune. But that wasn't her happy place... but the dances.. They made her feel more real than anything could.

Frondie's eyes were shut now, her thin toned legs still trucking along. The fact that she had left the river's edge didn't dawn on her until she suddenly came to realize she could no longer hear the river. Slowing to her a walk her eyes fluttered open and she shot a glance to her right. Her heart leapt; she could still see the river crawling along and she grinned. "Thank God." She muttered to herself in relief, turning herself in its direction and jogging back to it. When she returned she glanced north and saw the lake. For the first time since she arrived at Furaie she grinned slightly, approaching it in a much slower jog before halting at its edge and peering in at her reflection. The jog had been a good 15 minutes or so, she would continue later, now she would sit at the water's edge, and she would return to her happy place. Some would call this meditating, but Frondie merely called it keeping what was left of her delicate sanity.


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Harper Pollock
Posted: Jun 8 2011, 04:33 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Alecto)
Posts: 51
Member No.: 63
Joined: 3-June 11



Harper had been going off running by herself for years. She'd come, after all, from a house filled with screaming and lambasting and hatred. There were too many siblings and too many opinions and it all came together to create a sort of buzzing in her brain that she could only escape by actually, well, escaping. Back in East Bumblefuck, she could run down the winding roads forever without running into a soul. She could run through the trees or down a path or right in the middle of the road if she really wanted to. And she did. She was an athlete and certainly ran for fitness, but a big part of her was running for sanity. She loved Fallon – really she did, somewhere in her black and rotting core – but sometimes she didn't, and it was helpful to be able to run faster than her. Fal might chase you for a minute or so, but she generally gave up pretty quick. Or fell.

She'd found her running routine when she first came to Furiae. There was a great, crumbling stadium that you could get to if you took a shortcut through the woods (with your hand on your wand at all times) with plenty of space and a whole lot of stairs to run. It was nice. So naturally they had to move to a different facility without a private stadium for her jogging amusement. But, after some searching, she'd found the river, and nothing had made her happier than finding that river. She hadn't told Fallon about it, or anybody – it was right there for anyone to find, after all, and the longer it took everybody else to find it, the longer she could have it to herself. Maybe it was silly, but it reminded her of running down the beach back when she was younger, down near Kennebunkport.. Back then the water seemed to go on forever by her side, and she was filled with the smell of the sea. The sand resisted her and sprung up at her ankles with every stride, making it a challenge – but a challenge that she loved. This wasn't the same. This wasn't like a slow summer day at the beach – but she could pretend.

And so, this morning – like all mornings – she ran. She didn't always go running quite this early, but she'd been having this disturbing dream all night long about some guy at the facility who she hardly knew. In typical obnoxious dream fashion it was both extremely long and extremely short at the same time, and by the time she woke up, feeling prickly and a bit unsettled, she was so sick of it that she couldn't imagine going back to sleep, lest it begin again. So, in lieu of actually being well-rested, she'd decided on a morning run today. She'd thrown her hair into a sloppy braid and slogged out toward the river so she could zone out and find the ocean in her mind.

When Harper first arrived at the facility she looked like a school athlete. After she'd been there a while she began to look a bit more intense – more like a cadet. These days she looked like G.I. Jane – fit and covered in all manner of minor (but nasty looking) wounds, her robes tattered, her expression stony, her hand on her wand and poised to use it if necessary. If she was ever pretty she wasn't especially gorgeous any longer. That was the creature who, having nearly tripped on a bunched up pile of robes (she glanced around to look for blood or a body, but found nothing), approached the area by the lake where the delicate looking Barbie Doll was poised, looking much like a sitting duck. What the hell? Nobody was ever there – and when they were they usually didn't look so, um... relaxed? It was clear that the girl was there on purpose, though, which somehow pissed Harper off just a little bit. There weren't supposed to be people on her fictional beach?

“Hey!” she called, approaching at a jog, coming to stand before the girl. “Do you usually sit out here around now?” she asked, scratching her neck and breathing a bit hard. Her other hand was, of course, still fingering her wand, just in case. “It's okay if you do, but,” she shrugged, squinting in the early sunlight. “I usually...” she started, then stopped, “There just isn't usually anyone out here.”


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Frondie Engel
Posted: Jun 8 2011, 06:58 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Tisiphone)
Posts: 57
Member No.: 61
Joined: 1-June 11



Time passed, she let herself breath in a slow rhythmic pattern, her lengthy legs crossed in meditation style. Her lids were gently closed over her dark brown eyes and her face was slightly upturned so that the natural flow of scents could flush into her waiting nostrils. The pine, the lake, even the smell of wild animals. Ears, though sensative, were blocking out all un-needed ruckus, Frondie was going to her happy place. The warm sunny breeze touching her beautiful tan flesh, running and dancing in her sundress; she found herself in the beautiful feilds that was her adoptive parents several acre yard. The grass was the color of golden death, it tickled her bare legs flirtatiously as she wound her body about sensually; the veela dances she spent her childhood perfecting. She could do it better than the full veelas, and still she had been ridiculed; thoughts of those bad times were far from her head though. Tonight she though of home, her true home, where she wished she was at this very moment. Her mother's delicious caramel mochas, and all those wonderful muggle shopping malls, all the attention she would get from boys at school and in the muggle world. Most of all, the long dead grass, like hay.

Those days were long passed, she had made a mistake and now she was stuck here with students (well, inmates) that were much tougher than she. Sure, at her school she had been rather sharp and rough around the edges; but here, it was all the bad kids from around the world, and some of them were even murders. Some of them had never found a home. Frondie was inwardly worried, though she could never seem so vunerable. Merlin! She was only here because she lost her temper, but no, she would now never be forgiven. Now she couldn't even go home and have it be the same. Now her happy place was wearing away into negative thoughts and she opened her eyes, frowning into her reflection in the water. Suddenly, a females voice, strong but feminine in nature, came shouting in her direction; Frondie could hear footsteps approach her where she sat. Turning her head her ponytail flung around like a whip and she stood quickly, slipping her wand from her shorts and holding it pointing it towards the earth. Her eyes watched wearily as the girl seemed annoyed.. but she also just seem confused and a bit tired; Frondie could see this girl had been jogging as well. That was nice, somebody with a similar interest at least.

"Well no." she answered after a moment, sliding her wand away now. Frondie had always been a trusting type. "Recently i've just been joggin' around the school, but that got boreing.. I spotted the river and followed it down to this lake. It's peaceful." she said, motioning an arm towards the scenery. "If it's your spot or something i'll just start doing afternoon jogs." she offered


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Harper Pollock
Posted: Jun 8 2011, 11:30 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Alecto)
Posts: 51
Member No.: 63
Joined: 3-June 11



“Yeah, no, it's alright,” Harper said with a small shake of her head and the slightest of smiles at the corner of her mouth. She crossed her arms over her chest, her breathing having become normal, and trained her eyes on the girl's wand, watching as she slid it out of view. Though she, too, carried a wand, the witch was always skeptical of others who did the same. She'd been out of school for a year now and already half the spells she'd learned were long gone from her memory. If you don't use it, you lose it, right? Back at school she relied a lot on books rather than natural aptitude to put her where she needed to be. At one point in time she was on the track to becoming a real adept – a magic user, a career magician. Now? Now she was a joke. By now there were absolute idiots in this place who had more magic than she did just because they'd been sentenced more recently. She only felt legitimately smart when standing next to Fallon or Corrigan – a sad fate considering she was not a survivor of a traumatic brain injury. She had no excuse. She was just becoming stupid. She may have gained a lot of muscle, but that meant nothing if she was facing a reckless dumbass with a wand. She took a step back and kept her hand on her own wand. It was the pretty ones you had to watch out for. There's a reason there isn't a “Magical Adept Barbie” on the shelves.

“I usually run in the afternoon, actually, but I've been having shit dreams lately, so if I'm awake I'm gonna run,” she explained, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, not having anticipated stopping so quickly. She kind of wanted to spit, for phlegm purposes... but if it helped mark her territory, so be it. She didn't, though. She swallowed it back, making a face, her free hand clenching and unclenching at her side. “You know what's boring?” she asked, gazing sideways toward the water almost longingly, “back at the old place – you know, the other place – I used to run around the courtyard, like, in circles. It's fitness, but after fifteen minutes you just want to kill yourself,” she explained, shaking her head, remembering that pitiful monotony. She'd come a long way since then. “That was before they even gave us these crap wands. I wasn't going to touch the wastelands with a ten foot pole – not unarmed,” she explained, shifting her glance toward the trees. She hadn't quite gotten to discovering what lived in the woods out here yet, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. She preferred to think that the woods were full of cute little deer and chipmunks and just a few blood thirsty monsters who slept with something that carried her scent and had sweet dreams of eating her – like, maybe six or so. And then, like, a wolf or something. Maybe poison ivy. What she didn't know couldn't hurt her, right?

“So are you new?” she asked, wandering over to the nearest isolated tree and giving it a completely unwarranted kick with the side of her boot. “I mean, I've seen you before, but I usually try not to get too close to new people until I know that they're not going to kill themselves the first week.” Kick. “Or, you know, month or whatever,” Kick “Or die some other way.” Kick.


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Frondie Engel
Posted: Jun 9 2011, 01:07 AM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Tisiphone)
Posts: 57
Member No.: 61
Joined: 1-June 11



At first glance Frondie wouldn't have identified this girl as the type to ramble on, orr the type to abuse nature. But, she had never been the best judge of character and that she already knew. Oh, how many times has she trusted the unreliable and adored the unlikable. But, beyond the phlegm swallowing and boot-bark smashing, Frondie actually found herself curious towards this girl. Her carefree attitude and masculine looking attire; she was dirty, but she was happy with the way she was. And, this young woman was obviously street smart. Something about her was actually rather intimidating, almost as if she had encountered a warden. Actually, she felt herself growing rather self-conscious and nervous about how she was going to reply to the girl, so much so that she stopped really paying attention to what she was talking about once she started kicking the tree, instead she watched the toe of her boot scuff the rough skin of the inanimate creature until the words 'Die some other way' rang into her eyes and she glanced back to her face.

"Wait.. people die here?" Frondie burst out in a voice that was much more childish and wavering than she'd hoped for. Great, the army woman was going to see right through her act. In no time people are going to be wondering how this piece of work ended up strolling her supermodel-looking ass around these halls. Surely it was for their own personal entertainment no doubt; Now she was just in another place where she can be the source of something to laugh at. With a an apprehensive tuck of her hair behind her ear she coughed and looked over her shoulder, as if something was going to spring out of the wood-work and gobble her up and/or penetrate her vital organs with some sort of samurai blade. Neither seemed to be the case and she turned back to the girl who had the obvious dislike towards nature in general. "Well, i mean.. " Then she realized that had been exactly what she meant, and her creativity had never really been up to par when it came to telling lies. "It's not so bad here, it couldn't be.. I mean.. It has to be reasonably safe for there to be people." It was around this time she began to feel like just what Alyssa had called her, a yank. A dumb old yankee who that that the whole world was secure and happy, and full of magical gloriousness that rained down on sunbeams two inflate us all with joy and safety.

Finally, she sighed and let her shoulders slouch. She had already been caught red handed, and she doubted if this girl couldn't read people, because Frondie was an open book. Even if her expressions didn't give it away her veela glow always did. It shook, clenched, faded, and ignited according to her different moods, making it even harder for a horrible liar to fib. Now her glow was very faded and her tan was beginning to look a bit ill and pale. Frondie's dark, usually confident eyes, were looking anxious and down-trodden.


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Harper Pollock
Posted: Jun 9 2011, 09:49 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Alecto)
Posts: 51
Member No.: 63
Joined: 3-June 11



Harper kicked the tree, not because she disliked nature, or trees specifically. She did not kick it because it had personally offended her in any way. She just kicked it because she didn't want to stop moving. It was early and she was tired and she was supposed to be out here to run. Besides, the tree was on the grounds of Furiae. By that logic alone it probably deserved whatever it got. Kick.

”Wait.. people die here?”

Harper must've been here a long time, because instead of nodding sagely or looking pale herself, she smirked. It was just a little smirk – a baby smirk, even. That smirk could have grown up to become maniacal laughter or something equally as sinister, but for now it was just the slightest twitch at the corner of her mouth, a small and silent celebration of the fact that she wasn't yet dead. “Yeah,” she muttered with a one-shouldered shrug, taking a few long, measured steps around the outside of the tree, one hand gripping the trunk as she swung around the outside, her eyes trained on the ground. “They believe in corporeal punishment here, if you can believe it,” she said with a dry little chuckle, looking at the blonde as though she was making a joke she should have been in on. She swung herself around the outside of the tree's thick trunk again, waking heel to toe, seriously intent on the silly, pointless task. When she emerged around the other side again she looked the girl over quickly, trying to be subtle, and muttered a muted, “Yup, new as hell.”

”I mean.. It has to be reasonably safe for there to be people.”

“Define reasonably?” she asked, walking back around the tree in the other direction – clearly she had a bad case of happy feet. Naturally she would have preferred to be running, but being a loner got lonely at times, and it was always interesting to figure out who else was stalking around the place. She rubbed at her tired eyes and yawned as she emerged from the other side of the tree trunk yet again, this time stopping and leaning against the trunk. She glanced at the other girl again, and couldn't help but notice she looked a bit pale. Had she really scared the crap out of her? Harper didn't think it was possible that anyone didn't know that Furiae was a deathtrap. “Are you alright?” she asked, arching a brow, standing up straight and giving her a look. “Are you going to faint or something?” Frankly, Harper had seen people faint before, and if this girl was going to go down, she'd probably already be in a heap on the ground. Still – you could never be too sure.

“Listen, if you die, it's because you killed yourself,” she explained, making some lame attempt to comfort the girl. “If you do something stupid and you die, it's your fault, right? So don't do anything stupid,” she suggested with a shrug. “Or, if you do, don't get caught.” Or, you know, have an identical twin you could blame it on. That had been a great tactic so far.


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Frondie Engel
Posted: Jun 9 2011, 11:17 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Tisiphone)
Posts: 57
Member No.: 61
Joined: 1-June 11



The other female’s reaction to Frondie was no surprise to the veela. It was as if she had been asking for it, she faltered, she had revealed to vulnerability to a young woman who looked like she could survive in the ferocious wilderness with nothing but her bare hands. Frondie tightened her pony-tail by grabbing it and two clumps and pulling it to the sides. As she did this her eyes watched the girl as she was now beginning to spin around the tree with the confidence of a somebody who had earned their seniority in this place. She found herself quite envious, but at the same time was just wishing she had just kept her temper in check. Why hadn’t she just walked away when her fake credit card had been denied by the dumb muggle bitch? Frondie now listened as the girl seemed to crack an inappropriate joke; it went right over her head, as corporal punishment didn’t sound amusing in the least. After the girl looked her over with those judgmental eyes Frondie began to grow only mildly frustrated; First she wasn’t pretty enough, and now she’s going to come here and if she doesn’t look like a lesbian she’s going to look ‘too new’. Letting out a low sigh she found her own tree near the other inmate and leaned against it, looking not relaxed but tall and frigid, arms crossed over her bosom. Frondie wasn’t angry, but was a little concerned about having let herself look so silly in front of this other youth; especially now when she was asking if she was going to faint. Wow, she couldn’t have sound less concerned if she had tried.

Harper, who to Frondie was still nameless, began to explain how only the stupid die in this place. Hopefully that was true enough, Frondie had managed not to die in the Veela clan.. and had the horrible long and rigid scar on her back to prove her hardships while living with the flock. Maybe then she could survive here. “Well I honestly have never done anything stupid intentionally, so let’s just hope that I keep my head.” She said in a low disconcerted voice. At the moment her face was towards the ground, she nervously shifted her sneaker around in the soil watching it clump around the soul. Deciding to try and change the subject off of her green newbie ass, she lifted her chin and watched the girl straight in the face, looking her over and smiling slightly. Something about her seemed nice enough (though, as said before, her judge of character had never been up to par). “Well, do you do anything else besides jog? We could do some stretches and what not and set off together.. maybe into the woods? Unless.. I dunno, unless you’d rather go on alone.” She looked into the trees near the river. “I mean..” She laughed slightly. Huh, weird.. laughing doesn’t even feel natural anymore, as if she’s not allowed such an activity. “I understand if you don’t, I usually jog alone. Time to clear the head, let those adrenalines start a-flowin’.

Harry Potter’s panties, Frondie, now who’s the chatter-box?


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Harper Pollock
Posted: Jun 10 2011, 07:23 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Alecto)
Posts: 51
Member No.: 63
Joined: 3-June 11



Harper loved acting like she had actual wisdom to impart. It was a lot of fun to pretend that she had half an inkling what the hell she was doing or why she was lucky (or some might say unlucky) enough to remain alive for this long. For all she knew they'd let her live because of the way she tied her shoelaces. This place was bat shit nuts. Logic didn't always work at Furiae. If all it took to stay alive was not being stupid, there would be half as many inmates, maybe less... and probably a few fewer Marshals, too. Whatever the case, if the only reward for sticking around a while was being able to pretend you knew what you were talking about, she'd take it.

”Well I honestly have never done anything stupid intentionally, so let’s just hope that I keep my head”

Harper couldn't help but grin at that. This girl was funny!

But then she realized that she wasn't kidding, and she grinned even wider. Really? Really? This girl was going to stand there on the grounds of the baby slammer and tell her that she'd never done anything stupid intentionally? If whatever she did was an accident they wouldn't have sent her to juvy, would they? There aren't many accidents that merit being locked up until the powers that be say you've been rehabilitated. She couldn't help herself – she chuckled. Everyone in this place had been stupid at least once – even if their crime wasn't stupid, they'd gotten caught. In a facility where inmates were separated by blood type and lineage, came from different countries and schools, and were dragged in for different circumstances, the only thing they all really had in common was stupidity. She had to figure out this girl's story.

She listened to the blonde ramble on about running, all the while kicking at the tree's exposed root with her foot. “I usually run alone, I guess,” she explained. “It's just sort of an alone thing. No offense or anything, but I'm all set.” She twisted her head to one side, cracking her neck a bit, before stepping away from the tree. “I wouldn't run through the woods, though. I mean, you can, but it would probably be the first stupid thing you've ever done.” She couldn't keep the smirk off of her face at that. She glanced toward the trees, as if she expected to see a large, dangerous creature ambling by at just that moment.

“Actually, you know what? Let's take a tour,” she decided, scratching at something invisible on the back of her neck, pushing her dinky braid over her shoulder. She was bored and had time to kill, and what better way to get to know somebody than to take a romp through the woods with nothing but wands that work only when they feel like it? Yes, there was the possibility of death out there, but there was no actual rule against being in the woods at the asscrack of dawn. Being mauled to death by a bear would probably be more pleasant than whatever the Warden could think up. “Nothing in there two trained witches can't take on, right?” she asked with half a smile. “I mean, assuming you're trained. You were holding your wand like you were. Did you go to school?” she asked, already probing, as she headed toward the trees.


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Frondie Engel
Posted: Jun 10 2011, 09:43 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Tisiphone)
Posts: 57
Member No.: 61
Joined: 1-June 11



When the girl insisted that she run alone Frondie felt a little put off, but she didn’t seem like she was getting ready to ditch her or anything. Honestly, it was the first person she got along with; her house mates were annoying little half-breeds who thought they were so special. Please. Just being around them reminded her of being among the veelas again; everybody so cocky about their lineage. Ridiculous. Frondie didn’t even care if the girl was chuckling at her, she didn’t seem to mean malice or cockiness by it. In fact, something about her screamed an inner dorkiness that Frondie was feeling rather fond of at this moment in time. Perhaps upon another chance meeting they wouldn’t get along.. Maybe during any other circumstance they wouldn’t have even had a conversation. But this early, chilly morning, they were just two girls out to get away from it all and get a little bit of exercise; this common link was their current bond, and it’d been awhile since she felt like she could relate to anybody about anything. Well, it had been awhile since she even tried. She had never thought of finding somebody to work out with. Apparently this girl wasn’t the person, but she took a mental note to find another inmate who liked jogging and yoga.

At first the thought of exploring the forestry seemed ill-advised to the brunette, but then she had a very sudden second thought about it. Frondie chuckled happily and followed her into the woods. An adventure, two trained witches, out to find whatever’s out there to find. Wow, she’d never really been the adventurous time before, unless it was an adventure to the mall to find the perfect pair of flats for her new sundress; or maybe a new bright orange towel that would make her feel like she’s trying of with sunshine. Today though, it was invigorating and new, and it brought her out of the depressive grey state this facility seemed to cake upon her emotions. Soon the girl was asking if Frondie was trained, and she slipped her want from her shorts and held it in front of her as they brushed passed the branches, getting into the thicker parts of the woods where the tips of some tree branches were mingling with those of the other’s.

Yeah..” she answered in a slow curious fashion, raising her brows curiously, “I’m from Los Angelas.” She explained; perhaps the girl wondered why she hadn’t seen her at her academy? Frondie was curious what made her wonder if she had been in school or not, but it really didn’t matter either way. “I guess my accent gives away that I’m an American. Or, a yank, as some would prefer to call it.” She added with more than a little spite in her words, her glow shifting only for a moment, before becoming the warm an excited shine of adventure once again. “I was never all that great really.. but if we find ourselves in trouble I think we’ll find a way out of it. It’s too bad we can’t apparate here. But you look like you could handle yourself without a wand to be perfectly honest.” Frondie told her with the intent of being complimentary. “And while we’re telling the truth, I’m positive I could live without mine as well.” Maybe she was trying to brag, sound more confident, but she deserved it after looking like a fool just a few minutes. Now that she was thinking of her strengths, her mind wandered to her scar. Frondie mindlessly reached back her free hand and touched the base of it, scratching it for a moment before bringing her arm forward again. Suddenly she stopped and turned to the right, lifting her chin and staring at a tree down the bridge of her nose (as if it helped her see more clearly). There was nothing, she wasn’t even positive now that she had heard a noise in the first place. It was like.. the sound of something trying not to make a sound.


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Harper Pollock
Posted: Jun 11 2011, 11:20 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Alecto)
Posts: 51
Member No.: 63
Joined: 3-June 11



If there was one thing Harper had learned after meeting many of the rather unique inmates at Furiae Correctional Facility it was to never, ever assume anything about a person. You couldn't assume that everyone went to school or was trained. You couldn't assume anyone was entirely human. You couldn't assume that people here would be nice, but you also couldn't assume they'd be horrible, terrible and scary. They really ran the gamut from the wrongly accused to serial axe murderers. Many of the inmates had started off as someone like her – an honors student from an affluent background with both parents still together, several siblings, and just her fair share of traumatizing, life-shaping childhood abuse. Others hadn't. There were inmates who had lived in gold plated mansions and inmates who'd lived in cardboard boxes on the side of the interstate. Some hadn't gone through puberty yet while others had worked as prostitutes or had kids of their own. Some inmates had lived charmed lives, and this was hell. Others had come from hell and found Furiae a respite. You couldn't assume anything about anybody, not even that a waif-like wand-wielder at the side of the lake was a trained witch. Maybe she was someone's weird patronus holding a twig (she was kinda glowing). Or it was possible that Harper had finally, finally lost her effing mind.

She was glad to hear that the girl was, in fact, a trained witch – and American, no less. “LA? Nice,” she commented, interested in hearing more. She thought she detected something other than American Pride in the girl's tone, but she couldn't quite place why or where it stemmed from. They tried so hard to rob you of your identity here, taking away everything – if she didn't hold on to who she was and where she came from, she'd be stripped of everything. “Us too. I mean, we're American,” she explained, once again utilizing the 'royal we' without realizing it – it was a habit she'd never shake completely. “From Maine, though. Our house was like, in the middle of nowhere,” she explained. Compared to LA, she may as well have been talking about another planet. There were no neighbors near her old house, and certainly no malls. There were no muggles – heck, no people. She'd grown up in a vacuum – but it was a beautiful, solitary vacuum that she missed fiercely. She smiled a small smile thinking about home – a faraway place she'd never return to again.

”But you look like you could handle yourself without a wand to be perfectly honest.”

“Depends what we're up against, I guess,” she explained, “but thanks. She really did take the compliment to heart. For so long – long before she'd come to Furiae – Harper had dreamed of being the sort of scary-looking witch that people were kind of afraid of. She wanted a reputation that she didn't deserve so she could have quiet time to herself for a change. It seemed she'd finally become what she wanted to be long ago – but about a year or so too late. Of course, then the girl next to her – who could have been her polar opposite physically – was saying the same thing about herself. She couldn't help but glance over at her again. Huh. Maybe she could fight. After all, she didn't want to assume, but it was sometimes so easy to.

Differences aside, they seemed to both tune in to a noise or a movement or some sign of life at the exact same time. Both of their heads turned to face the same direction and there was a period of silence between them during which time neither spoke – only stared. “The fuck...” Harper muttered, taking a small, cautious step forward, as if daring whatever was there (or not there) to show itself again. Her hand tightened around her wand instinctively. She whistled, trying to provoke some kind of reaction. Why? It seemed like a good idea at the time.

And when she heard a rustling in response? She ran. She ran like hell, not even so much as glancing at the girl she was with, whose name she didn't even know. She just booked it for the trees, laughing like a hyena but also possibly in danger of dying of fright. Being stupid was kind of awesome. Now she knew why Fallon liked it so much.


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Frondie Engel
Posted: Jun 13 2011, 11:17 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Tisiphone)
Posts: 57
Member No.: 61
Joined: 1-June 11



For some strange reason she hadn’t noticed at all that the girl was from America as well, but they’re accents were slightly differing. Also, like Harper, Frondie had grown up in a rather secluded environment. They disguised themselves as a nudist colony; and a lot of times they were naked, though Frondie had never been allowed after the day she received the injury that resulted in her scar. Instead they were all just a pack of veelas, wild and free, living amongst only their selves and their unbeatable amount of vanity and completely demented perception of their worth. How useful could a clan full of veelas be to the magical community? Zilch. Soon Frondie realized they might has well been from two different dimensions; Maine? She had never even heard of the other states until she was banished from the tribe; she had never really knew she was an American before that. At eleven she found out about wizards, muggles, and the world beyond. Before that, the outer shells of their fenced in wonderland might as well have been deep space. It was after that she really grew up, and began to live with a nice family of two muggleborn, but very intelligent and well-trained magical folk. They took her as her daughter, and that’s when she was reborn as a witch; that’s when she found her home. Her happy place; their golden acres of grassy fields. Now she too was missing home, nostalgia sweeping and creating a familiar tenseness in her larynx. That was also when she got to enjoy both the fabulous life of the wizarding world, and was introduced the muggle way of life. Fashion turned out to be her favorite part, and also muggles thought she was radiant and amazing as they never considered there being such things as ‘sirens’ in real life. Ah, the poor muggles and their disbelief in myths, if only they knew how close they got to the truths.

But, while they were lost in these thoughts, that noise had come. And now Frondie was tense and still, her dark eyes looking over to the raggad female and she notice that she was just as tense, and was already clenching protectively to her wand. Frondie followed suit, pulling out her own wand that shared the same core as the other girl’s. As every other inmate in this damned place. When she whistled every muscle in Frondie’s body tightened and she closed her eyes as if to brace herself from a pending attack. The rustle sounded again and just as soon as it did the girl, who she realized was still nameless, had started sprinting. Well, looks like every witch for themselves out here in the forests. Frondie found herself frozen in place, she’d meant to call out to her fellow expiditioner, but her voice was caught in her throat and she just made a short pathetic gagging sound. Her eyes were glued to the bush in which the sound had emitted. Pulling herself together she pointed her wand at the bush, her skill in using wordless spells was still ripe; the green light of the stupefying spell shot from the tip of her wand straight for the bush and something began repelling backwards through the air and hit the nearest treetrunk with a deafening thud.

A… gnome?!” she exclaimed in complete disbelief. “I thought these sons of biscuits only lived in gardens.” Frondie muttered to herself, squeezing through the heavy brush over to the ugly, solid, fat little thing that had frightened them. His eyes were spinning crazily (obviously he was quite dizzy from the sudden attack) and his mouth was slack and nasty mud-drool was seeping out of his toothless mouth-hole. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. Crouching beside him she poked him in the nose with her wand and it twitched, but that was it’s only response. It was still too.. stupid? To run away. Straightening her back and reaching her full heighth she stared through the woods, her eyes just slits. “HEY!! It’s was only a GNOOOOME!” she yelled out. Would she have gone all the way back to the facility? That laugh hadn’t been very reassuring… Then she’d be alone out here. Miss Engel’s heart suddenly thumped heart in her chest.


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Harper Pollock
Posted: Jun 14 2011, 07:05 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Alecto)
Posts: 51
Member No.: 63
Joined: 3-June 11



It was like the woods were filled with her laughter, bouncing off of the tree trunks and ricocheting this way and that until they consumed the entire echoy clearing. Once she'd left a considerable distance between herself and the creature in the brush she ducked out behind one of those tree trunks, suddenly seeming to realize that the other girl wasn't right behind her. She kept her back to the trunk, breathing hard and still laughing under her breath. She considered going back for the girl – either the blonde didn't see the immediate need to run (why not? It was the best part of being pursued by anything! Heck, Fallon's whole fitness plan was comprised of daily occurrences of running away from scary shit!) or she was dead. Well, she couldn't say she didn't warn her. After a few moments of meditating on this, Harper's laughter died down and she actually began to wonder if the other girl had been eaten or injured or had found a portal to Narnia. But then, blessedly, she heard her voice ring out through the morning... and she wasn't even screaming like she was being cruelly mauled to death! Harper didn't feel so bad for leaving her anymore.

”HEY!! It’s was only a GNOOOOME!”

“SHIT! YOU'RE KIDDING ME!” Harper hollered back just as loud. Screaming had always been one of her strengths. She was laughing like it was the funniest news she'd ever heard, making fun of herself and finally allowing herself to relax a bit. She was trying to figure out where the other girl's voice was coming from. She took a step away from the tree and glanced around in search of any indication of where she'd come from. When it came down to it, she wasn't entirely sure. She took a few brisk, crunchy steps in the direction she thought she'd come from and peeked around the outside of a tree. That little move didn't give her any clues. The giant, shit-eating grin on her face faltered, collapsing on itself. “REALLY?” she called out again, her voice free from mirth. She was hoping the other girl would shout back to her and give her a clue as to where she'd come from and where she should be headed. “Shit,” she muttered, glancing around her. There were nearly identical trees in all directions. She was really freaking lost.

“UH, CAN YOU...” she started, shouting toward the girl again, muttering a muted “shit, shit shit...” under her breath as she nearly tripped over the same root for the third time in a row. She was walking and walking and going nowhere. How many times had she gone running through the middle of nowhere back home? How many times had she found her way out of the woods at the old facility? And she was lost now? “WHERE ARE YOU? I HAVE NO CLUE WHERE THE HELL...” she was shouting, before she suddenly went silent. Then, after a particularly heavy two seconds, a deafening scream pierced through the air. Harper's. Somebody should have listened to her own advice!


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Frondie Engel
Posted: Jun 14 2011, 11:56 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Tisiphone)
Posts: 57
Member No.: 61
Joined: 1-June 11



From a good distance away Frondie could listen in on the hollering of her newly found acquatance. At least she hadn’t bailed on her completely and went running back to the facility to tell everybody about this dumb blonde she met in the woods who met a horrible fate; killed by gnomes. Only she wouldn’t have been killed by gnomes, she’d be lost. She needed the other girl to find her way out of these blasted trees; she had been here awhile, right? She should know whether the facility was north, south, or which-way in between. Frondie knew she should’ve payed more attention to that minor detail before gallivanting. The streaming waters of the ‘nearby’ river couldn’t even be heard anymore. How far had they gone. She didn’t holler back, because she assumed that Harper was doing perfectly well, she had been laughing madly when she found out what their pursuer at been. Sighing slowly she leaned back and forth, craning her thin frame so her head to peer around the tree trunks, but it was such thick brush that she couldn’t see more than four feet ahead. There was a long pause—A scream sounded so loudly, that Frondie had a stomach-wrenching intuition that this was no joke; something had happened to the other brunette, and it wasn’t another gnome. Her heart plummeted so low I should’ve fallen out of the leg of her shorts unto the forest litter below. Frondie’s veela glow dimmed to where it was almost gone, and she went sickly white from brow to big toe.

Hello?” She choked out, her first attempt barely audible to her own ears which lived only mere inches from her mouth. “HELLO!” she yelled out more successfully this time. “DUDE! YOU BETTER NOT BE FUCKING WITH ME!” she shouted, sounded a bit angry at the thought of this; that simply wasn’t right, it was downright rude in fact. Especially now since the girl had made her swear. Frondie couldn’t explain it but she wasn’t one to use profanity, she found it vulgar, crude, and it showed a lack of proper vocabulary. Frondie wanted to look professional and intelligent; she wanted to end up being a power in higher places. Perhaps if she didn’t make it in the Ministry, then she would turn to her own means, but for now that was still her plan. Though, Furaie is a bit of setback in your academic transcripts. Frondie decided it was best to find the girl, and she had to find her face. Doing her best, she tried to pinpoint where the shriek had come from, and she began running in that direction. Her legs were lean and muscular, and took her at a quick pace; much faster than her usual comforting jog. Frondie was whipping through the woods, her blonde hair a cascading curly cape behind her, her arms pumping at her sides for increased speed. Her breathing was steady, like that of a professional long distance runner who was trying to conserve their energy. Frondie hadn’t found her yet, she haulted.

How fast had she been running, could she have gone farther than this. Or was it hopeless, had she been kidnapped? But by what? A werewolf, centaur, a giant witch-eating flobberworm!?! Gasping in panic she turned suddenly 29 degrees east and began to run—Headlong into a nice evergreen’s trunk. The bark was rough and scratchy, and her formerly blemish free face was now had a nice gash across the front of her nose, blood was making it’s way in a nice little creek down around her lips. Frondie touched her face and frowned. “Oh no.. my face.” She mourned over her currently destroyed perfection. She also now had to worry about what the head healer was like; she’d be paying a visit to him in due time. “Merlin help me,” Frondie moaned. “ARE YOU ALL RIGHT!?!” She called out again while standing up. Her head pounded with every beat of her heart.


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Sicila O'Dair
Posted: Jun 15 2011, 07:25 PM


Warden
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Group: Story Council (Faculty)
Posts: 273
Member No.: 2
Joined: 25-February 11



NPC played by: Elijah!

It snorted and pawed at the ground, its feeding disturbed by the shouting. Its ears flattened, twitching. Its tail lashed.

Nearly twenty one hands tall at the shoulder, the beast stood heavy and high on the ground. It was a unicorn, but not one that anyone had ever seen before. Its coat was black as pitch, with a coal-dark silken mane and tail that brushed out behind it, tangled in places with briers. A two-foot, slightly curved horn burst from its forehead, long and spiraled. The bone of it too was black, chased with silver that seemed to glisten in the light. Its hooves gleamed silver too. Its eyes were frightful, demon-red.

It was an evil creation, a violent and demented creature that studied Harper Pollock through a hateful, shining eye.

The girl was off through the woods, the view of her imposed by leafy branches. The black unicorn pushed past these roughly, cracking through even the larger limbs like an stone through water. Its hooves fell heavily on the earth, thudding over rocks and snapping twigs and crackling leaves. It snorted again, loudly, to call her attention to its magnificent and terrifying presence.

To call her attention to the fact that she was in its territory, and it would remedy this now.

It waited no longer. With a sudden scream - a heart-stopping shriek few horse-owners have ever had the misfortune of hearing their beasts utter - it plunged its head down and charged.


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Harper Pollock
Posted: Jun 17 2011, 09:49 PM


levelTHREE
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Group: Inmate (Alecto)
Posts: 51
Member No.: 63
Joined: 3-June 11



When Harper was younger, her family owned a Hippogryff. In the beginning, the creature terrified both Harper and Fallon alike. It was huge, after all – larger if you're a little girl. It looked angry much of the time, and proud of itself, and something about it just said dangerous. The difference between Harper and Fallon, though, was that Fallon sat down on a bench and watched it from across the clearing with her thumb in her mouth and her bare toes brushing the pale layer of dusty dirt on the ground. Harper, though – Harper thought it was glorious, and she dared herself to get closer every day. Eventually there came a day when she was riding the magnificent creature regularly. She cared about it dearly, and wanted to do nothing more than to just be around it. Fallon, meanwhile, never got any closer. Harper's odd sort of affection for large, powerful creatures never abated, even after her father sold the hippogryff and left her with a broomstick instead. The last thing she thought before she was being charged by the black unicorn creature was just how beautiful it was. She was terrified and in love at the same time. It was kind of the same way that Fallon felt about the Warden- she's beautiful and intriguing with a lovely mane ripe for stroking, but you really can't get too close to that motherfucker unless you have a death wish.

That scream that rang its way through the forest had come from some mysterious place within her and had burst its way out without any regard for who heard it.... or, you know, what screaming meant while in the close vicinity of a dangerous looking dark creature. In dreams – nightmares, to be specific – she could never scream, never run. Everything was in slow motion. When danger was present, all processes stopped. In real life, though? In real life she could scream. Time seemed unaffected, however, though everything had a sort of strange ethereal cast to it. It was like the dark forest was suddenly being illuminated by fluorescent lights. She could hear the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears like a dramatic soundtrack to the scene. She seemed to realize way too late that screaming was the wrong choice and she panicked.

See, it was times like these when having a wand that worked on the first attempt would have been nice. Her Furiae wand was a piece of shit – she probably could have gotten more magical current out of an actual turd. Even if it was any good, she was having trouble thinking of any spell that could be used to hold off a giant black unicorn bent on goring her. She fumbled for her wand feebly, clutching it with a fist so white that the wand was in danger of snapping in two. There just wasn't time though – there was no time to think of a spell, or to cast one.

Instead, Harper just did what she did best – she ran like hell.
.


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