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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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 Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2015 3:11 pm
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2015 3:12 pm
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2015 3:15 pm
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Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2016 10:54 am
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A clouded dream on an earthly night-
Hangs upon the crescent moon.
A voiceless song in an ageless light-
Sings at the coming dawn.
Birds in flight are calling there...
Where the heart moves the stones.
It's there that my heart is calling;
All for the love of you.
N E W L Y N
T A R A
M C L E L L A N
BLOOD TRAITOR │ FORMER HUFFLEPUFF │ OWNER OF DOMINIC MAESTRO'S
Newlyn, in general, prided herself on remaining calm. She always had, and she'd been in some situations where the average twenty-something young woman would have been going through a complete emotional breakdown. However, at the present she was finding it a little difficult to remain her calm, quiet self. She peered down at the little stick in one hand, the other hand clasped over her mouth in shock, and then hurriedly flushed the toilet and furiously scrubbed her hands clean, continuously glancing over at the stick as if it to make sure it was still there. It wasn't as if this was a complete blindside; they had been trying for what seemed like quite some while now, but... But at times she'd never really expected it to happen, although she'd recently started to want it, more than she'd ever thought she would. Part of her thought it might have been because of Miles; he had no family aside from his pack and her and her sisters, and she wanted to be able to give him a family of his own, very badly. But she had no family aside from him, the pack, and her sisters either. Maybe it was more for the two of them. Either way, that second line didn't appear to be fading. She stepped out of the bathroom cautiously, and then couldn't help herself. "Miles!" she called out, unable to keep her voice from rising slightly. "Can you come here?"
A painting hangs on an ivy wall-
Nestled in the emerald moss.
The eyes declare a truce of trust;
And then it draws me far away.
Where deep in the desert twilight...
Sand melts in pools of the sky-
When darkness lays her crimson cloak...
Your lamps will call me home. |
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2016 11:26 am
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Bow made love to needy string
In cooing fling - wanton whispers
Fondled under pianissimos,
Caressing callous hearts.
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Hᴜғғʟᴇᴘᴜғғ Aʟᴜᴍɴɪ |♫| Tᴀʟᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ Vɪᴏʟɪɴɪsᴛ |♫| Aᴄᴏɴɪᴛᴇ Pᴀᴄᴋ
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Miles had been busy working on his violin, trying to make sure that it was in good working order. He readjusted the bridge before he started tightening the strings, not too worried about tuning the violin quite yet since he wasn't going to be playing it anytime soon. Setting the violin aside, he was about to work on replacing the hair on the bow when he heard Newlyn call from the bathroom. He stood, leaving the bow sitting as he tried to figure out what Newlyn was calling about.
He grumbled again, wishing that the cold he'd seemed to have for forever would just go away already. He couldn't smell anything, and he had to admit it was a bit disconcerting. He hadn't realized how much he actually used his sense of smell until he lost it from the cold, so he figured he was going to cheer when he was over the cold he had. He leaned his head toward Newlyn, a frown pulling at his features as he regarded her. "What's the matter? You sound like something's wrong?" Granted, he was certain that nothing was wrong, but the way Newlyn sounded made him worry that something bad had happened.
════════════════════════Location: Home
Thinking: Okay, did something happen?
Taken By: Newlyn McLellan
OOC:     
And all in a work of musical art:
Ephemeral stories, yarned of music
Honed impossibly through her tones.
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Posted: Mon Nov 07, 2016 1:02 pm
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A clouded dream on an earthly night-
Hangs upon the crescent moon.
A voiceless song in an ageless light-
Sings at the coming dawn.
Birds in flight are calling there...
Where the heart moves the stones.
It's there that my heart is calling;
All for the love of you.
N E W L Y N
T A R A
M C L E L L A N
BLOOD TRAITOR │ FORMER HUFFLEPUFF │ OWNER OF DOMINIC MAESTRO'S
Newlyn was a little surprised that her husband hadn't said something the moment he was within smelling-distance of her, but then remembered that he was still struggling to get over that head-cold. That was almost a thrill, since when your partner had super-senses, it made it very difficult to hide almost anything from him. Now it would be a proper surprise, like it would be for anyone else. Trying to keep a straight face, she stepped over to him, grabbing both of his hands, and put one on her stomach, even though there was absolutely nothing to feel there at all at this stage of the pregnancy. "Nothing's wrong," she grinned. "In fact, something finally went really right." She knew he'd be thrilled; she just couldn't wait to see his reaction, and although it wasn't as if Miles was on say, Dori level of excitability, she was still looking forward to it. She wondered what her sisters would say; Elsie had just started her teaching position at Hogwarts and would probably be popping in left and right to chat about the baby, and Morven would be disgruntled but more than likely too busy with work and her boyfriend to pitch much of a fit over it.
A painting hangs on an ivy wall-
Nestled in the emerald moss.
The eyes declare a truce of trust;
And then it draws me far away.
Where deep in the desert twilight...
Sand melts in pools of the sky-
When darkness lays her crimson cloak...
Your lamps will call me home. |
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Thu Dec 29, 2016 6:55 pm
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A clouded dream on an earthly night-
Hangs upon the crescent moon.
A voiceless song in an ageless light-
Sings at the coming dawn.
Birds in flight are calling there...
Where the heart moves the stones.
It's there that my heart is calling;
All for the love of you.
N E W L Y N
T A R A
M C L E L L A N
BLOOD TRAITOR │ FORMER HUFFLEPUFF │ OWNER OF DOMINIC MAESTRO'S
Newlyn was just changing into pajamas when her water broke. She'd been having contractions- or what felt like contractions, she didn't pretend to be particularly knowledgeable about these things, and at this point all the reading up on pregnancy seemed to blend together- since the late afternoon, and now it was just past ten at night. She'd done everything you were supposed to, closing up the shop early, not that it was too busy, what with it being the very end of the school year and all, and going for a long walk all around the Black Lake and even to the edge of the forest. She'd tried to stomach as much dinner as possible and then had taken an extremely long shower. She'd listened to music- she was always listening to music, given her job, but she'd played all her favorite records, tried a bit of the piano, and begged Miles to play for her as well. Not that she didn't love listening to him play normally, but at the time it had seemed a bit more dire of a situation. The brunette wanted this baby out. Now.
Well, you got your wish, she told herself sarcastically, kicking away the now sodden clothes on the floor, and bracing herself against the side of the bed, closing her eyes momentarily. "Miles!" Newlyn yelled more hoarsely than she would have liked, and went to locate a long t-shirt of some sort, since she didn't exactly feel like lounging around naked like some fertility goddess with stretched marks. Gods, who else did she need to let know. Her sisters. Right. Chloe- she'd been a healer for a good while there, she had to know what she was doing. Jason- no. Definitely not. Everyone else could go sod off for all she cared, she didn't want a crowd. "It's starting," she said through gritted teeth as soon as she heard her husband come in the room. "Owl my sisters. And Chloe. And whoever- ugh, just get everyone here who needs to be here, but I don't want them all in the room, and- and- gods I hope it's quick and he's not too big." Newlyn had no idea the gender of the baby, but was convinced it was a boy all the same. She rather liked the idea of a son. Raising girls was hard.
A painting hangs on an ivy wall-
Nestled in the emerald moss.
The eyes declare a truce of trust;
And then it draws me far away.
Where deep in the desert twilight...
Sand melts in pools of the sky-
When darkness lays her crimson cloak...
Your lamps will call me home. |
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Posted: Thu Dec 29, 2016 7:45 pm
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Bow made love to needy string
In cooing fling - wanton whispers
Fondled under pianissimos,
Caressing callous hearts.
════════════════════════
Hᴜғғʟᴇᴘᴜғғ Aʟᴜᴍɴɪ |♫| Tᴀʟᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ Vɪᴏʟɪɴɪsᴛ |♫| Aᴄᴏɴɪᴛᴇ Pᴀᴄᴋ
════════════════════════
Miles knew that Newlyn had been restless all day. He'd been watching her pace around, go on walks, and generally trying to distract herself all day. He hadn't minded playing for her when she asked, and the redhead almost felt like pacing himself. It was like the restless energy that Newlyn had felt was being transferred to him as well, and he'd taken to munching on a box of bog biscuits the longer the day wore on. By the time evening had rolled around, Miles was likely to start howling if something of the tension in the air didn't ease. He was sure that had he been a cat instead, he'd be climbing everything in sight.
The moment he heard Newlyn's call, he perked up his ears and poked his head into the bedroom. Wrinkling his nose at the smell, he blinked as he noticed she was getting a t-shirt on and walked over to toss her one of his old ones. They certainly were big enough. "Okay, got it. Sisters, Chloe, and who else? Nevermind, I'll figure it out when I send off the owl. Need anything while I'm busy?" He might have seemed calm at the moment, but inside he was trying to do somersaults in his head to keep from jumping around being useless. Oh Merlin, the baby was coming. It was certainly something he didn't expect, but it was still happening. He glanced around the room real fast, wondering if it was even clean enough to have a kid in, and then realizing he should probably pick up before everyone started apparating in. After all, if there was going to be a crowd, then he should show that he wasn't a complete slob, right?
════════════════════════Location: Home
Thinking: Ohcrap, baby's coming, we're ready, right?
Taken By: Newlyn McLellan
OOC:
And all in a work of musical art:
Ephemeral stories, yarned of music
Honed impossibly through her tones.
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