Charming is a Victorian Era Harry Potter roleplay set primarily in the village of Hogsmeade, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the non-canon village of Irvingly. Characters of all classes, both magical and muggle — and even non-human! — are welcome.

With a member driven story line, monthly games and events, and a friendly and drama-free community focused on quality over quantity, the only thing you can be sure of is fun!
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    News
    Charming on Sunwolves is closed to new registrations in anticipation of our upcoming move back to our regular URL! See this announcement for more info.
    02.05 One last puzzle before we depart!
    02.01 AC? What AC?
    01.26 Impending URL changes!
    01.11 I've got a bit of a reputation...
    01.06 AC underway, and a puzzle to solve!
    01.01 Happy new year! Have some announcements of varying importance.
    12.31 Enter the Winter Labyrinth if you dare!
    12.23 Professional Quidditch things...
    12.21 New stamp!
    12.20 Concerning immortality
    12.16 A heads up that the Secret Swap deadline is fast approaching!
    12.14 Introducing our new Minister of Magic!
    12.13 On the first day of Charming, Kayte gave to me...
    12.11 Some quick reminders!
    12.08 Another peek at what's to come...
     
        
     
    1888 Is Too Close, But Complications Are Already Here
    #1
    Private Thread 
    December 31, 1887 - 11:30

    Regina felt stifled, and had been from the beginning of summer. Her emotions did not help one bit. Being in the home for so long had given her time to think about what had happened between her and her 'uncle'. What he had said, and how she felt. Honestly, she had been staying in her room most of the time after that conversation. It had given her time to think, to process. Yes they did have differences, and he was much too clingy, but was he really so terrible to her? Bella's parents had been so much worse, and not to mention his sister.

    Her parade of emotions seemed to wish to want overwhelm her. Along with the stronger liquors, she couldn't help but bring up champagne. Tonight was a special night, after all. But she didn't want to join any celebrations tonight, too lost in her own thoughts to properly think. Despite the count down, she felt as though time was frozen, especially when a letter slipped under her door.

    Fingers shaking, though she was in no way quaking of fear for what it might contain, she picked up the letter. Though it was not typical of her, she was feeling so conflicted, and thus had decided to have quite a few drinks from her uncle's collection. It was not as if he would mind anyway. After all, he practically made it an almost daily tradition to have multiple drinks of his own.

    The Gryffindor's vision was thankfully not hazy as she began to read the words. Oh yes, yet another new addition to the saga of their drama. Had she been mistaken to read this? What could she possibly make of this?

    She looked at the hardest liquor that she had taken into her room. Hating hard liquor the most, she had yet to open it, but if she was going to go speak to him or deal with him at all tonight, she felt that she would need it. Though, perhaps that was just the other liquor talking. She sighed, getting up and slightly stumbling over to the bottle, with the single glass that she had brought up.

    The stumble made her pause. Was it really such a good idea to have even more alcohol after that? She looked back at the letter in her hand, then nodded to herself. Yes, yes it was. She opened the bottle, poured the drink, and took a sip. Swallowing with a flinch, she scrunched her nose at the acrid flavor. Looking at her drink once more, she shook her head and placed it down on her dresser. No more of that for her.

    Regina then turned to the door. Now all she had to do was not let the maids see her stumble. Hopefully she wouldn't be seen at all by them tonight. And she thought of this as she slowly made a way to the door. Walking out of her room, there was a thought in the back of her mind that this was a mistake. A mistake to talk to him while she was like this. Pushing past that thought, she felt that she had to work towards a resolution with him over their conflict and feelings. After all, they were soon to be in a new year, and banishing a conflict was a perfect way to start it off.

    Hoping that she would not be stricken by bad luck in an effort to talk all of this out, she hoped to be followed by a bit of good luck from the coming year. Looking around as she walked down the hall, it seemed that the maids were staying clear of this area at the moment. Possibly not wanting to disrupt the head of the house for the evening, perhaps this was an even better moment than she had thought to speak with him.

    When coming to the door, she couldn't help but wish with her fuzzy mind that the door was not opaque, hoping to know what he was doing. Hearing clanking, she instantly realized what he must have been doing. Pushing past any hesitation that came to her mind, she knocked on the door.
    #2
    After he'd dropped off the letter, he came back to his study, latching the door once more and returning to his desk. Yet rather than take another drink, hed set about writing. It'd been some time since he had sat down and started a new play, and Merlin, did he have a plot to write. Unrequited love sold tickets, at least.

    He'd been settled there for a time, writing fervently the tale of a younger man and his lovely debutante quarry who was promised to another. He wasn't quite to the romance of the thing, but the story began with greed. Just as his had. He couldn't believe that what had started as nothing more than a terrible plan to obtain the Lacey fortune had resulted in this. He'd sworn that love wasn't possible for him again. He hadn't even really loved Elle - it had been for convenience, nothing more.

    A marriage to end rumors that circulated about himself and his sister, and to prevent rumors that might arise about his lost paramour. The sketch of Silas overlooked everything on his desk, now - he'd had a frame made, claiming it to be for a small painting of his late wife, and that frame now was propped up against the shelving in which he kept parchment and paper. A simple, still sketch, nothing magical. As his eyes lifted to the sketch from the parchment, he sighed, setting his quill to its holder and taking up the bottle to pour himself another drink.

    He didn't anticipate a knock to his door.

    With a groan, he stood, taking his walking stick in hand and making his way to the door. If this was his valet, he'd be quite displeased - but as he unlocked and opened the entrance to his study, his eyes widened at the sight of Regina. He stepped back, turning towards the desk once more.

    "I see you got the letter," he commented. "I'd expected you to be sleeping already, to come to me about this in the morning." He sat himself back down, gesturing to the hair opposite. "Please, Regina. Have a seat."

    This night wasn't going to end well. And he didn't even bother to sweep the work in progress from the desk. Better she discover his secrets now than later, after all.
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    #3
    The groan was unheard by Regina's ears, and she waited for a while. Standing up, rather than against the wall, she tried her best to look sober. It was one thing to leave her room while partially drunk, it was a completely different thing to let other's know that she was drunk. Especially him. Right now, she didn't really want to see what his reaction would be to that.

    When he opened the door, she looked directly at him, and watched as his eyes widened. Strange, with the note and all. Had he been expecting the gardener or whoever else? She wasn't sure. Mind still in a slight fog, she didn't pay those thoughts much mind.

    Thinking of her words carefully, she hoped how she talked wouldn't give away the state her mind was in. Simply because she was in a fog, it didn't mean she wanted him to know such things. "It is new years eve, I would be more surprised to those who do not stay up." She responded as he moved away from her.

    Now was a challenge all of it's own. It wasn't like in the hall, where she had no one with their eyes on her. Stumbling would be quite stupid. Walking in, she tried not to let her thoughts wander as she tried to walk how she normally did. Had this really been a good idea?

    Sitting across from him, she placed the note on the edge of the table. "What is it you wanted to say to me?" She asked.
    #4
    He hoped this wasn't a terrible sign, even as he watched her cross the room to the chair. She wasn't walking straight; that was enough to tell Killian just what she'd been doing in her bedroom. But at least she was speaking relatively clearly. Perhaps she hadn't drunk enough to be in a state of haze. Still, given that, he found it only polite to pour her a glass of his preferred, relatively strong liquor and slide it gently in her direction.

    But, to be honest, he hadn't figured out exactly how to say what he needed to say to her. It was clear that whatever he needed to say wouldn't be taken lightly - it carried weight. His words would change her future, and his. So, before he began, he drained the glass he'd already poured himself and refilled it.

    "What I want to say and what I need to say are two completely different subjects," he said, leaning back in his chair, still holding that refilled glass. "But I need your word, Regina, that you will hear me out entirely. Honestly, I've no idea how to say either, so I'll need you to bear with me, as well."

    He could always show her the work-in-progress, but that wouldn't end well. She'd probably think it no more than fiction. So, he carefully lifted the parchment and set it aside to dry. But again, the sketch of Silas overlooked the desk, framed and given a place of honor rather than hidden away like some would with such a personal piece that could give away a private part of themselves.

    It might be easiest to start off with learning what she thought, though. Clearly, she believed it was urgent. . "What do you think I need to say to you, Regina?"
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    #5
    Normally, Regina hated to drink. Especially with others around. What was worse was when they were drinking with her. The mind numbing of liquor had never really appealed to her. However, tonight was a completely different story. She didn't honestly care if he saw her drink. It was a stressful enough situation on it's own. For goodness sake, she had already had some to drink in her room. What was the difference now?

    Taking the offered glass, she drank some as well. Honestly, she wasn't sure what he wanted to say. She didn't see what could possibly be explained for what they last spoke about. Of course it was complicated, but how would she not know what he meant by it? She wasn't stupid, and he had made himself fairly clear.

    What he did say made her raise an eyebrow. Two different things, well that was something. Did it help put any pieces together? No, if anything, it made this all the more complicated and confusing. And listening to what he had to say fully? She was hesitant to find out what this topic would consist of. But, that was why she was here, to find out. All she knew was that she needed more of an explanation for what was going through his head. Taking another drink, finishing the glass, and she then nodded.

    Looking at the paper as he moved it to the side, she couldn't help but wonder what he had been working with after he had sent her that letter. She was curious, but she didn't let it show, looking back at him instead. A picture of someone she did not know did not catch her interest at this time. There was far more on her mind than a man she did not know. Other answers could be found another time.

    Well, that was what she had come to find out, what he needed, and now what he wanted, to say. "I am not sure. I don't know your mind." She said. That was honestly the only answer she could think of. Perhaps part of the reason why was the liquor, but she paid no mind to that.
    #6
    How to say this?

    "I...there's no simple way to say this." He was fumbling, and dear God, did he know that. What was his way of coping with it? Down the drink and pour another one. "Regina, I've fallen in love with you," he said, outright, blatant. Best to just say it.

    He sat back, watching for her reaction. This wasn't the perfect explanation, but it was all he had. It was what he had left to give.
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    #7
    Regina watched him fumble, something that felt slightly new to her. This was certainly not something that she was used to, any of this. Did anyone else have to deal with this madness? Certainly Bella had never had to deal with this.

    His statement made her eyes go wide, as she stared at him for a solid minute. Well, it had been hinted towards, but him stating it was another thing all together.

    Another few moments passed as she thought about what she could possibly respond to this with. "And?" She stuttered finally.
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    #8
    He'd said what he'd planned to say - so why did he still feel as if there was more? It certainly didn't help that she was asking. God help him in the morning for what he was about to say.

    "The only logical thought which I have," he said, his voice steady for how much alcohol he'd imbibed. He was nearly out a bottle. "I would understand if you refused, but I must ask. Would you consider marrying me?" To ask seemed the course of action to his mildly addled mind, not that he'd ever admit to being in an altered state were he asked at a later date.

    The drying parchment to his side would be enough evidence that he had asked such a thing of Regina. If only Silas could see him now, trying to move forward in what was perhaps the worst method possible. Not a thought was spared for Ella, which he probably would realize come morning. If Regina were to attack him now, he wouldn't even raise his wand in his own defense. Besides, it was still in his cane.
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    #9
    Of all the things she could possibly say or do in this situation, they were all jumbled in Regina’s mind. Where had he expected this to go? Part of her thought of slapping him, and other told her that this option would leave her with possibly the most problems for her future.
    A part of her reasoned that saying yes would give her some peace from his obsessing, while no might only both frustrate him and make him more clingy. Though another part simply hinted that saying yes would be stupid and unreasonable, the other logic sounded more long term, and sound in her state of mind.
    So, she decided to say what a sober version of her might have slapped her for, or at least have run from the situation completely. “Yes.” She stated. Perhaps it would give her some much needed peace, and his sister would be much less annoying to be around.
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