An immersive Harry Potter roleplay where you decide where your journey takes you. Get involved in the main plot, grab a slice of life, go on an adventure, or something else entirely. See where your life takes you.
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Welcome to TB, an all levels Harry Potter roleplay with no word count. Our purpose is to go through the books with one exception: the addition of original characters and what changes that makes.
We accept all beings and creatures in the Harry Potter verse including ghosts, veela, muggles and even centaur.
We have many active events ongoing for both students and adults and many characters and locations around the world.
Come join us and discover how your character can grow and evolve in the world of Harry Potter.
As I'm not sure whether it's for this site or another, I'll post one of each.
From another site:
Chuck was used to the chilly winters of Colorado. Living fairly close to the mountains ensured that there would always be snow for Christmas. Christmas.. That was something he hadn't celebrated in.. God, it had to have been years. Living alone wasn't exactly an ideal way to spend the holidays so he just let it fall by the wayside. Now though, with Becky in his life, he wanted to give her the best Christmas he could. Even if that meant having to face his irrational fears and climb ladders in order to hang wreaths and lights and such. Unlike other years, he hoped they wouldn't get snowed in. It was ideal for a man who craved privacy, but it was awful now as they would have to spend days shoveling to get to the road. Perhaps having an archangel tethered to you would ensure things like that wouldn't happen.
The sights and smells and even the atmosphere of the house had changed dramatically in a very short amount of time. It was a change for the better. Becky's enthusiasm, although sometimes verging on frightening, always brought some kind of cheer to the otherwise dreary place. When he saw how fuzzy her hair went from wearing the hat, he laughed quietly to himself. It wasn't making fun of her, he thought she looked cute that way. She was usually so well put together. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, wow, she was just perfect.
"Yeah Becky, we can." He smiled when he saw how excited she was from such a little thing. "I'll call Phil before we leave. He works from home so I know he's there." He was mind boggled when she started describing Christmas lights. He thought that they just came in clear or multi-colored. Oh how wrong he was. "Um.. Why don't you pick them out when we get there? That way I know it'll be something you'll like." He was passing the buck, but there was no way he'd be able to retain that much information about Christmas lights. when she started to move, he instinctively followed her.
As he listened to her continue to talk about Christmas decorations, he went somewhat nostalgic. He remembered Christmases from when he was younger and his parents had gone all out for them. Decorations and ornaments everywhere, even on the banisters. It verged on tacky but it always made Christmas seem magical. Apparently Becky had similar thoughts about the holiday season as they did. "Yeah, we can definitely get a real tree. There's lots of places around here that sell them." He wasn't exactly sure what a poinsettia was.
It looked something like a bush, but it also looked like a weird flower and the odd thing was he only saw them around Christmas time. It was a good thing he didn't own a cat as they were poisonous to them. "We can get all of those things." At the mention of mistletoe, he felt very nervous. He knew what it would be for and he loved the idea of having an excuse to kiss her every time they went past it. Still the butterflies made him feel like an inexperienced teenager, though that was far from what he was.
He sat down at the table in a seat across from her and listened as she mentioned the books. Writing them now, when he knew they were real, always made him a little jumpy. He was never sure whether or not Sam and Dean would blame him for the content that was there. He had been ordered by the angels to continue writing. He'd even once threatened to kill himself to be able to quit, but as they said, they would only bring him back so there wasn't much point. This latest chapter dealt with the return of the Trickster.
"Yeah, it's kinda weird, but I hope you like it. There's a lot of people involved in it. I would show you now, but it's a rough draft and I have to make sure I got everything right." He had no idea whether or not even altering a sentence would alter the outcome. He had to try that sometime. If it worked, he could hopefully make their lives easier and if it failed, he was likely in for a smiting of biblical proportions. That's a scary thought.
He took a bite of his toast and was surprised at the taste. In a way the charcoal flavor added to it. he stuck a fork into the home fries and was about to try them when she mentioned grocery shopping. Yeah, he was long overdue for a trip to the grocery store. "Sure, we can go. I'm sorry about that. It's been a while since I've had more than one person in here." He felt as though he was inconsiderate by not shopping immediately when she moved in there. He was a prophet, he should have known way ahead of time that he was going to need food. Apparently, his prophecies only rarely dealt with himself.
"No.. No need to order in." He finally tried the home fries. "Wow Becky, these are amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this?" If Becky could make food this good, he never wanted to order out again. Yeah, they would still go to restaurants now and again whenever the mood struck them but they wouldn't have to live out of take away cartons and pizza boxes. He was getting sick of pizza anyway. It was sustenance, but after eating it for so long, they all began to taste the same. "What other kinds of stuff can you make?"
From this site:
Theodore had thought about her quite a lot during the time he was away from her. She almost never left his thoughts. It was like living in a permanent daydream. He'd ruined a potion or two, allowing his mind to drift away from what he was doing. He'd cleaned it up rather quickly so he didn't get reprimanded. Being around her made him feel as though he could do anything, almost like being invincible. He knew of course that he was just as mortal as everyone else, but that didn't change the feeling. "It's certainly beautiful. I've never seen anything like it." Whether she'd done it by magic or the muggle way, the outcome was still magical. It was probably because he knew that she'd done it, though that only added to the awe of it all. "I wasn't sure about the wrapping, but I noticed your shop had pink in it. I'm glad that you like it."
He was pleased that she seemed to like the gifts he'd picked out for her. He'd been worried that she might have thought they were too flashy or too cheap. Her reaction was touching, and as he wasn't sentimental, that was really saying something. He watched her face carefully, not knowing what was going through her mind. When she handed him his presents, he couldn't help smiling again. "You really didn't have to get me anything." He wondered what was in the parcels, but he took his time opening them. He didn't want to break anything that might be fragile. "This will really come in handy. I can't wait to read it." He sounded somewhat excited, which scared him. It was as though he'd momentarily channeled Hermione Granger. He would never live that down. It was certainly going to be an interesting read as he knew nothing about muggle medicine and he could always do with more medical knowledge.
The watch was especially touching. He took it out of it's packaging carefully, not wanting to harm it in any way. He turned it over and saw that she'd had it engraved. "It's beautiful. I don't think I've ever gotten a nicer present in my life." Her presence was gift enough, but he loved the other things. He was going to put them somewhere safe. It was an elegant watch and he would save it for special occasions rather than keeping it for everyday use. This was occasion enough and he removed his old watch, putting it in his pocket. He put on the one she'd bought him. It fit perfectly. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, still holding the book in one hand. He'd been too impulsive to set it down.
I'm entering something since this contest has been sitting awhile. Also from another site: - - - - - - - - - -
By most people's standards, Fiona was far from normal. She had never gone to high school, or college, two periods in life that defined many people for the rest of their lives. She would never have a reunion to dread and make up an elaborate lie for. There had been this thing on tv where the little cartoon didn't want to go to his reunion because he was a miserable failure while his rival was good-looking and rich, so he pretended to have a trophy wife and claimed to be rich from inventing oxygen. She was pretty sure he hadn't invented oxygen though, it had to have been around when the dinosaurs were or they wouldn't have been able to breathe. Hey - maybe that was what they died from! Perhaps she was normal in that she looked to television for more exciting lives than her own.
On television, everyone had normal but slightly quirky lives. There was always a main character with two best friends, one of each gender, or one best friend that was funny but completely incompetent at everything they attempted. Strange things were always happening to them, but they got to go to all sorts of interesting places and meet new people. Especially the cartoons. They could walk in space without marshmallow spacesuits, or go to the future - physics meant absolutely nothing. Of course, some people in real life could fly too. They were lucky. She would love to have that ability. Being able to fly anywhere in the world, see the sights she was only ever going to see on pictures, no one would ever be able to catch her. She would never be trapped indoors again. It would sure be more useful than what she could do.
That was another thing. People on the live-action shows always had such useful abilities that came in handy right when they were needed. Need to get the key that would set the spy hero free to stop the nuclear launch? There was a mover in the cell. Need to get across the island in five minutes to save the love interest's life? Of course the hero was a jumper. Abilities like those were so practical and safe. There would always be situations made easier by having them, and no one would ever be locked in the Building for them. Maybe if a Jumper was using their ability to stab little old ladies, the Building might try to lock them up, but there was no reason to snatch them up simply for being jumpers. They were normal people in Casticova. Then there was her. Five foot two, blonde, total freak. When, in real life or the screen, would anyone ever need an earthquake? 'Oh darn, we're trapped in this prison cell. Hey, let's bring the whole thing down on our heads with an earthquake, then we'll be free!' That wasn't such a great plan. She was pretty sure having a prison cell land on your head would hurt a lot.
Fiona pouted at her half-empty, no longer scalding coffee. There had been this one ability that changed the temperature of things on the site that listed a bunch of abilities and signs of level ones. That would be more useful too, then she could have made her coffee a little less scalding before she took a giant gulp of it. That site would have been a lot more useful if it had been able to tell her what her ability was. Looked like nothing got to be useful. She had skimmed through all of the pages about various abilities but none of the level one signs had been anything like what she could do. High-level benders could create earthquakes, but she had been doing that for ages. It was why she'd been scientist-napped in the first place. Low-level movers just shook things around when they got upset. When she was upset, things shook, but the room shook with them, and it had only gotten worse. Plus, she had spent half an hour trying to get a book from a table across from the old library computer she had used to look at that website, and it.
Stupid dictionary hadn't even budged.
Sometimes life could be a little frustrating, a little confusing. She tried to ignore it when it felt like that, but she wasn't perfect. She knew just from the fact that her ability created earthquakes that if the Building people ever caught her, they would toss her in a small room forever and throw away the key. That Building looked an awful lot like her fuzzy memory of scientist-land. She'd only seen it from the outside once, but it filled her with a similar sense of dread to be near it. Still, it would be so much easier if it had a name. Then she would have an identity, and maybe be able to find other people like her to fix whatever was wrong with her. Something obviously was. Deep down, she knew that if there were any other people like her, they would either be locked up or just as desperate to stay hidden. It was hard thing to be freakish and dangerous. Fiona really didn't try to be, it just sort of happened. Whenever she felt worried, little quakes just happened. The lack of pure adrenaline being pumped into her system by mad scientists really helped her keep a lid on things. But every so often, someone would pull a gun on her, or corner her...then the room would start to tremble. It was always unintentional.
Plus, it was partly the fault of people who pulled guns on her. If random people would stop trying to attack her on random days everything would be just peachy. Ooh, peaches! She loved those. See, crud sometimes happened in her life. Well, it seemed to happen a lot. Perhaps cranky people just followed her around because they got bored. Everyone had to have fun somehow. But it was only a problem if she let it drag her down. If she wanted, she could probably spend all her time moping about this and that. How boring. She preferred to just get on out there. Discover that big old world. Or...what little of it she was allowed to see, being a mutant and all. The rest of the world kind of hated their existence and wanted them to disappear forever. Like only normal people deserved to eat cookies and milk or something. Ever since being locked up, she had developed a dislike of enclosed spaces and a strong love of cookies. Whatever it was about those chewy round things that made her nab them from any shelves she spotted them on, she didn't know. They were just so yummy!
Oh! Cookies would make this place so much better. Right now it was a cafe, but with cookies, it would be a cafe with cookies! That would be so much more fun.
"Nope, never. It's one of those things that's not safe. Like touching the stove." There was a difference though. She wasn't supposed to touch the stove because she might hurt herself and burn the house down. She wasn't supposed to get drunk because she might lose control and kill everyone in the vicinity. That sort of thing was a tad bit counterproductive to keeping a low profile and avoiding a lifetime of incarceration in that giant eyesore of a Building. If setting off earthquakes at random wouldn't get her into trouble, she'd be able to relax a whole lot more instead of heading up to the mountains every time energy got pent up in her system. The scenery was nice, but it was a bit of a trek. It would be nice if she could get a puppy. Then she would have some company going up to the mountains. And she would be really really good at taking care of a puppy. She'd walk it, and feed it, and even clean up after it like a good owner did. Eventually Dem would have to relent and let her have one. She was being so responsible by not playing with the washing machine while he was gone and not destroying any buildings in town.
Adrial probably didn't have anyone to keep him from getting a puppy. He seemed way too independent for that. She wasn't good at being in charge of herself, apparently. If Dem didn't remind her to eat a couple times a day, she forgot. It wasn't like she was suicidal or obsessed with weight, there were just other things on her mind. Like butterflies! Those were so pretty, with their wings, bright colors, they could just go anywhere they wanted and everyone loved them. A life of drinking nectar and being popular. She wondered what nectar tasted like, but knew she was probably never going to get a chance to ask a butterfly. Not the chattiest of the animal kingdom, butterflies. But so pretty!
She tilted her head to the side, letting her wavy blonde hair fan out behind her face. Boys were so unlucky, having short hair. Certain shorter cuts looked like they'd be fun to tousle, but that was still only fun for other people. Or, in her case, not fun for her either because she was being good and not destroying city blocks and all that. Girls like her had longer hair that they could toss around or pin up to look silly. "Like a rhetorical question? Where people ask questions only they don't want an answer and get annoyed if you give them one?" she asked. That right there wasn't a rhetorical question, she honestly didn't know all of these little social nuances. "Ooh, those umbrella drinks always look so fun in commercials! They're colorful like butterflies! Only I don't know why they've got umbrellas. People always drink them indoors, so it's not like it's going to rain on them. Are you going already?" She giggled, then pouted. He was rolling up his paper like he was ready to hit the road running. And she had been having so much fun!
Well, maybe he needed to sleep. Other people needed lots of that because they weren't worried about being kidnapped if they shut their eyes. Not...that she was. Nu uh. She wasn't scared of anything, yep. Fearless Fiona, that's what everyone called her. Okay, so no one called her that, but they might if they knew her name and she wasn't an undercover unregistered mutant.
The building looked as though it had seen it's share of ghosts. Gothic, sooty, dark. The building dated from the Victorian era and had been a boarding school at one time and later an asylum. It could have been home to dozens of spirits, but none as immediate as the one that might have been hovering now above the still warm body of a young woman.
Her eyes were still and wide, showing shock, horror, panic, perhaps all three at once. She lay stomach down, her face darkening slowly to a plum shade from the constriction of the rope connecting her neck to her ankles.
The Lazy Hangman, an escapists illusion abandoned in the 1800's because of it's futility. At one time it had been performed by great magicians and now....now it was a ghost of a memory. A whispered nightmare in a shadowed corridor. The performer, or in this particular,incidence, victim, would lie in a prone position with their hands and ankles bound tightly.
Another length of rope would then be wound around the neck before it too was attached to the ankle bindings.The tendency of the legs to straighten gave the project it's ingenuity, the noose would be pulled tightly and thus began the slow process of strangulation. The condemned had but four minutes in which to figure out the device before they wound up pondering it for all of eternity while joining the choir invisible.
Jesse had never been a fan of magic tricks as a child. But now, with the tedious jobs he'd been given as of late, he needed to seek more entertaining avenues of body disposal before he went stir crazy from the boredom. Scattered around the woman was what used to be a small stack of paperwork, some basic supplies, the meager contents of her purse, and a spilled cup of coffee. The contents of the cup were beginning to stain her jeans and light colored top.
Flashback: The Devil made me do it. The centuries old cliche` was still effective when one didn't want to accept the blame, especially in times like these. Whether Jesse would take the blame for this or not didn't matter. As far as he knew, the girl had no family and nobody would search for her. She would simply be another anonymous corpse laying in an alley. His eyes, darker than usual, glittered cunningly in approval as he observed his work of art. He took a step backward to avoid the pooling blood. Why ruin the shoes? As he moved, he banged into a teetering pile of objects. The ensuing crash and echo were loud enough to wake the dead, well, almost.
Leaving the objects where they had fallen, he headed out of the room he had been in and started to head for the exit. It hadn't occurred to him to simply zap out of the building. Perhaps it should have. As he rounded the corner, he saw a figure a few feet ahead of him. He didn't recognize her, so she wasn't a scout for their side. She was armed, not a good sign. Usually where there was one armed person, there was more.
A broad smile curved up his lips and he approached the individual. As of now she was a toy for him to enjoy; a pet on the end of a chain. "Lets put that somewhere a little more safe, shall we? Put the gun to your head." He used his abilities. He could have simply disarmed her, but where was the fun in that. Whether or not the gun would kill him wasn't the issue, he preferred to remain in control.
He smirked with self satisfaction when her body obeyed his command without her permission. He clicked his tongue when he heard the whimper. She was scared already. It was more amusing when they struggled. Perhaps he was reading too much into it too early. Either way, he was sure to be entertained. Tapping his temple with his forefinger, he indicated as though he were thinking on it.
The look in his dark eyes was malicious, and he circled the girl while sizing her up. His movements were pure predator. He stopped, moving in closer to the girl; invading her personal space. He leaned in, nuzzling her dark locks and inhaling deeply. He lightly grazed her neck with his teeth, feeling the racing of her pulse. "Mmm..." he purred. The sight and feel of her fear was almost like a high for him, he craved it.
He stepped away, far enough to see her face to face, but near enough to still be invasive. He reached a hand toward her and stroked her cheek with his palm. "The possibilities are endless.” He took a good look at her. He recognized the vessel but the previous occupant was gone. An arrogant smile quickly formed on his lips. "You'll make a lovely stain on the floor," he said silkily, tones hushed to add impact.
His eyes glittered darkly. The mocking laughter that escaped his lips was almost inhuman. If she thought begging was going to work on him then she had no idea who she was dealing with. Just because he'd let one go didn't mean he would show the same courtesy to another.
"I won’t say anything to anyone I promise. Just please let me go…”
"Why would I want to do that? The fun is just beginning. Are you afraid if you go along with it you might like it?" The look in his eyes was bestial, but his face remained calm. "Give me the gun." Again he was using his abilities. No, he wouldn't shoot her. All it took was one bullet to end the fun.
Sure there would be the typical gasping, flailing and of course death rattle, but it would all be over in a matter of minutes. "There are so many wonderful things I could think of. But we have time for that." Wicked thoughts ran through his mind, each one more terrible than the last.
Also present was the man who had killed her. He was leaning down as though examining her, feeling no need to rush. It was early on a Saturday, chances were good that she wouldn't be missed for several more hours. He leaned in closer, squinting, wondering if he could possibly see some essence of sorts, some spirit preparing to head for the light... He didn't. He straightened up and pondered on what else he might do to the unmoving form in front of him.
As much as he was fixated on the task at hand, he kept his senses on alert. Whether it was a Croat, straggler, survivor, demon, or such he was more than ready. Prepare for the unpreparable. That was one lesson that had been beaten into him that he'd managed to retain. The core job had been simple enough; secure the building and leave no survivors or witnesses. That was an extreme waste of his talent but who was he going to complain to?
If he was cast out where was he going to go? Dean Winchester and his band of Merry Men would sooner rip him apart than allow him to breathe within a thousand yards of them. Besides, he craved the power and part of him liked being feared. That and he wouldn't be caught dead buddying up with those fluffy winged bible thumpers no matter how desperate he was. If he had his way he'd wipe every last one of 'em off the face of the Earth.
He glanced from the dead girl to the door and back again. She had a very slight, fine bone structure. Small nose, full lips, large grey eyes, soft dark hair that framed her face perfectly. If it wasn't for the look of terror frozen there in mid scream, she would have been quite lovely. It was almost a shame she had to die, but wrong place, wrong time, he supposed.
He heard a floorboard creak and turned around catlike and used his peripherals. He knew whoever made that noise wasn't stupid so he moved as silently as he could in the direction it came from. His clothing was dark and hopefully, in the dim hallway, he wouldn't stand out as much as he would normally.
Swiftly he made his way down the familiar, well worn walkways and corridors hoping to reach the source of the intrusion before it reached him. If he had the advantage, even ten seconds would do, it would buy him enough time to remove the evidence, flee the scene and make the intruder wonder whether they had actually seen what they had seen or not. Even a second too late and, well, at that point he would have to flee and leave the rest up to fate. What were they going to do? Arrest him? Not likely. The police had long ago been disbanded in this area and the survivors had been left to fend for themselves or flee the area, which most of the rational ones who hadn't been infected had done.
He reached into his pocket and slid out a match and a piece of flash cotton. A prop, yes, but an extremely effective one. When timed correctly, you could temporarily blind someone long enough for a quick getaway. Mind you, you'd need to be fast, but Jesse already had an out. He slowly raised his hand over his head and rounded the corner. Ever so slightly he opened his hand. As he did, he struck the match. The flame caught the cotton and a faint pop was heard and a blinding flash filled the room. Expertly, he shielded his eyes from the onslaught of the light, not wanting to be dazed or dazzled by the brilliance as it would impede his escape.
As the cotton fell to the floor, it quickly began to burn out, leaving no trace or evidence behind. It was as though it appeared from out of thin air. He made a run for it, but something inside him put on the brakes as it caught sight of a flash of red. Could it be? No. It was impossible. He couldn't fathom what would possess her to leave the safety of her home and head deep into the middle of an active hot-zone. She had to be out of her freakin' mind. He sighed and he allowed what semblance of sense that remained in him to take over and he turned around completely to face this person.
All at once his worst fears were realized. There she was, looking as beautiful as she had the day he first met her. Why? Why of all people did it have to be her to show up today? If it had been anyone else they could have been quickly and easily disposed of. A two for one deal. A clean sweep of the neighborhood and he could have called it a day. But no. This had to be handled delicately. He couldn't allow her to find out what he had done, yet he couldn't allow her to be caught either. He was caught between a rock and a hard place and there was no way to win. "Why did you come here? It's not safe? You could have been caught. You could have been killed. Anything could have happened to you. Anyone could have been in here. You were lucky it was me and not some demon who would have had a gay old time cleaving your flesh off your bones for kicks! Don't you think!?" He was angrier at himself than he was at her, but as she was standing right in front of him it made her a rather easy target for his wrath.
The current default skin and all its images are credit to Eliza Cunningham. The Beginning of the End copyright 2006 - 2024.
