maternis: (fb-6)
[personal profile] maternis
WHO: Newt Scamander
WHERE: In the forest, the village, and at where Graves and Credence live.
WHEN: July 8 and onward.
OPEN TO: All with closed starters for Graves and Credence.
WARNINGS: None yet. Will update if necessary.



everyone needs a place.  )
chosenbytheocean: (eeeeeee)
[personal profile] chosenbytheocean
WHO: Moana
WHERE: The Forest & The Inn
WHEN: July 5th - 15th
OPEN TO: Closed
WARNINGS: Fighting/Violence most likely...



The Inn - July 5th - 10th


Moana wasn't sure what to make of it. She had found the heart over a week before but hadn't thought to show it to anyone. She kept it in her grandmother's necklace which was now useful as well as a keepsake of the only family member who truly understood her.

She sat on the floor near the fire place. It was to hot to have the fire going but this had been Moana's seat since winter. She saw no reason to change that now. Itiiti, the little piglet, was snuggled against the side of her skirts, enjoying the feel of the grass around his round little body. She looked down at him briefly, smiling before she gently opened her necklace.

The heart dropped lightly into her palm, glowing a familiar green light.

"Why are you here?" She asked the heart as if it might be able to reply back to her. She'd notice that the strength of it's glow had been changing. Right before the earth quake and now she felt that it was dimming. Like a heart beat that was slowly reaching it's end. "Please. Please don't die. I need to return you to where you belong." Moana begged softly, curling her fingers protectively around the stone.

The Forest - July 8th - Bear


She knew that the heart brought trouble, Moana had seen it first hand on two separate occasions, but she hadn't thought that it would happen here. This village, this realm, felt so far removed from the world she knew. Surely no one knew what the heart was or what it could do.

She'd been wrong.

It still brought trouble to it's bearer though it was a little different from before. Moana had been walking through the forest, following behind Itiiti as the little pig sniffed out mushrooms and other eatable roots. She had a small basket with her that was half filled with things that she planned to bring back to the inn. With the crack in the rocks and the damage to the town, food that could travel seemed more important than before.

Her fingers sank into the earth as she dug up a handful of fungi. Itiiti bumped her elbow, sending Moana face first into the dirt. Her necklace popped open as she hit the ground and the glowing green heart rolled out of it's hiding place. Moana pushed herself up and reached for the stone. When she her fingers touched the smooth surface of the Heart she heard a roar echo threw the forest. The ground trembled and she thought it was another aftershock of the quake. It wasn't. The trees parted and a large black bear lumbered into view.

"Itiiti Run!" The piglet didn't need to be told twice. He squealed and took off into the woods. For anyone who ran into Itiiti he'd be too frightened to lead you back to his owner.

Moana scrabbled to her feet, wondering if she'd somehow stumble onto the bears home. Her basket of roots and mushrooms had fallen over and now sat a few feet to her left. Against all logical reason she reached down to try and gather up the food back into the basket. "Please stay away." Moana was used to monsters that could understand her and talk. She's never seen a bear before.

The Inn - July 15th
Place Holder. ooc: Heart looses it's glow. Unsure if Moana will have traveled to 7i by then or not. Pending how the meeting on July 10th goes. She wants to see the ocean as soon as she can. And try to get a boat there so that she can try and sail across the ocean. I might also have another prompt up where Moana is being chased by wolves on the 11th or 12th if anyone is interested in that.
scepterschild: (Oh no)
[personal profile] scepterschild
WHO: Wanda Maximoff
WHERE: Outside House #20, the Inn, the River
WHEN: June 9th – 11th
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: OPEN



June 9th 🙈 Unhappy Chiclets Outside House #20

Wanda had begun to hate the days. Their prison changed as if it was on the careless whims of a child. The sun had been blazing constantly for the last three days and it was wearing on Wanda's nerves. She had taken some extra blankets to cover her window, trying to keep her room as dark as humanly possible. It was difficult to tell the time with the sun’s constant presence in the sky. There was no way to counter it. Wanda worked until she was about to pass out and then slept. She had no idea how long each task took or what hours she kept. After the first day, she stopped trying to keep count.

Her sleep was restless, even with the semi darkness she had managed to attain in her room. Her nightmares were getting worse and she'd begun to wake to the sounds of her screaming. They weren’t ever screams of fear but the sounds of someone lashing out at the world around them. In this regard, it was good that her powers had been taken from her. There was no chance of her hurting anyone in the house.

This morning Wanda woke up sweating. She ran her palm over her face controlling the frantic beat of her heart. She brushed and tied up her hair, lifting the chestnut strands off the nape of her neck and then dress for the day. With the encroaching heat, she’d begin to walk around the house in her underwear. She didn’t care how it looked, anything to fight off the threat of heat exhaustion. She took a bucket of water and stepped into the backyard to dump the bucket over her head. It wasn’t warm but it felt good and it washed the sweat from her body.

It’s only as she’s turning to walk back into the house that she notices the two boxes sitting next to the house. One box had fallen off to the side while the other was slowly jumping forward. Wanda had heard about people getting things in boxes, it was how Clint had gotten his throwing knifes. It had never happened to her. She moved over to the moving box first and opened it.

This was a mistake.

Out of the box jumped 6 Chiclets who were finally released from the hot container that they’d be stuck in. They scattered in all directions in the back yard. Wanda cursed under her breath and ran after them, trying to return the little balls of fluff back to the small cardboard box. "Fuck hold still." Her accent was lighter and her tone tense. This was not what she wanted to do today.


June 10th 🙊 Fucking Sun the River

Dressed in green cargo pants and a white tank top Wanda headed towards the river. Her hair was braided and pulled over her right shoulder though she thought about tying it back into a high ponytail instead. She wasn’t enjoying the heat and by the time she reached the river she felt a dizzy wave wash over her. Her hand reached out towards a tree at her side to steady herself and pull the small container of water from her side. She never left her house without it and while the water was usually warm, it was still water. The liquid touched her lips and she took small sips before returning it back to her side.

The river was receding.

A brief flash of panic jolted through Wanda before she reminded herself to stay calm. She pressed her back against the tree, feeling the bark as it scraped uncomfortably against her skin. The realization that there was nothing they could do about the river hit her hard. She felt helpless and tired.

She closed her eyes and hoped to feel a breeze rise from the water. Exhaling she opened her eyes, directing the dark green orbs at the water. It glistened and winked in the sun and despite her annoyance at the sun it was a beautiful thing to see. Exhaling a tired breath Wanda pulled off her pants and walked out into the water. It wasn’t very cold but it felt good against her legs. It was only standing out in the river that she noticed the glint of the arrowheads where the water had once been. Another sign that there were people here before them or perhaps a war along the river bank? Wanda didn’t know.


June 11th 🙉 Strumming Along the Inn

Wanda couldn’t remember the last time she had a good night’s sleep. It’s been days with the constant sun but it felt like much longer than that. She found a place towards the back of the inn, just after finishing her task of preserving the meats and fish that had been caught that day. She’s sitting in her underwear again but her hair is loose, falling over her shoulders in thick brown waves. A wooden post was pressed between her shoulder blades and her legs sprawled over the floor while her newly obtained ukulele was sitting in her lap.

She knew how to play a few songs on the guitar though she usually used the instrument as way to organize her thoughts. She picked a song that she knew would be playable on the smaller instrument and began to play. After she’d gotten the hang of the cords she began to sing along to the tune.

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of Colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night

[ooc: Hotel California on the Ukulele: HERE. It’s beautiful, you should listen to this song. Please note even when singing Wanda would have her accent.]
goldsteins: (Untitled-2)
[personal profile] goldsteins
WHO: Tina Goldstein
WHERE: Newt's camp in the woods
WHEN: June 9
OPEN TO: Newt Scamander
WARNINGS: N/A except for the occasional train wreck
STATUS: Closed, but if you would like something set up for you let me know!


and i see different shades now )
maternis: (pic#11116489)
[personal profile] maternis
WHO: Newt Scamander
WHERE: outside gathering animals during the storm, helping people into the town hall (if need be), and at graves' house.
WHEN: backdated to the 14th when the hailstorm began
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: Just an extremely introverted magizoologist who prefers the company of all things not human.
STATUS: Open, save for the closed starter that is marked.

Gathering the animals:

It had been quite an eventful month, thus far. While he was still making due with feeling as though he had lost a sense with having no access to his magical abilities at all. Still, he did much as he usually did. He kept to himself mostly, though Carol had insisted that Percival was to be visited quite regularly. She had become rather attached, and so he had started to come to the village more regularly than he had in the previous months. Mostly, it was to check in to see if anything had changed with Credence, say hello to Tina and Queenie in brief, and Jacob as well.

He had been in the relative safety of the forest when the hailstorm began, and likely would have stayed if things hadn't begun to grow worse. It was during the start of it that he had found his newest passenger, though he had yet to introduce him to anyone as of yet.

But while he's helping to gather the animals, some by ushering them towards the safety of the Town Hall, and others by the armful if he's able to grab hold of them, one might notice the tiny triangular face of something that looks suspiciously like a weasel of some sort. Newt will be happy to introduce you to him after the current situation is handled.

"Come on, that's it. In we go," Newt soothes, warmth in his voice despite the urgency of the situation. "All of us inside where it is warm. There we are."

He looks back over one shoulder, his left cheek is stinging and starting to bruise from a glancing blow from a chunk of ice, but otherwise he's unharmed. "Is that all of them?"


Helping people inside the Town Hall:

While Newt has experienced his fair share of bad weather, the brunt of it had been during his time past in Equatorial Guinea, and the monsoon season coming to bear. It's tropical climate meant that he didn't have to contend with something so fierce as a hailstorm that seemed to have no end in sight, but rather the torrential rain that came instead.

If anyone needs assistance with supplies, or merely getting to a place of shelter, Newt is there to help take items, or offer the slight shelter of his peacoat over the top of their heads as they go to the Town Hall. He won't be staying for long, and will likely attempt to make a break when it is safer.


Closed to Graves at his house:

Newt shows up during a small lull with a polite knock to Graves' door that belies his current state. The hail is still coming down all around the village, but most everyone is safely away from the worst of it to wait it out. He isn't much for crowds, much less of people he doesn't know well, and decides that this is the better option. What Percival might see upon opening his door, despite the quiet ask for entry, is a sopping wet Newt Scamander, curls sticking wetly to his forehead, a small cut and bruise forming on his left cheek, and his coat tucked carefully around his thin frame.

It's obvious that his coat wrapped as it is, while not for his own benefit, is for the benefit of yet another creature he has managed to gain the trust of.

He casts a glance up, meeting his gaze briefly, and then letting it settle on the other man's shoulder. His expression, however, is warm as he offers a smile as if it were a day like any other. "Hello."

Wildcard! choose your own adventure:

( Perhaps I missed something you'd like to see. Go ahead and comment in, and I'll happily join in! )
3ofswords: (suspicious)
[personal profile] 3ofswords
WHO: Kira
WHERE: The northeastern woods
WHEN: April 26, early morning and onward
OPEN TO: Credence, Newt, Tina
WARNINGS: Smoke monsters, possible references to Credence's canon abuse
STATUS: N/A


Read more... )
maternis: (l)
[personal profile] maternis
WHO: Newt Scamander
WHERE: the fountain, the canyon wall, and the woods.
WHEN: March 20th + onward.
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: Just an extremely introverted magizoologist who prefers the company of all things not human.
STATUS: Open!


The Fountain:


Newt was still in quite the state after finding himself in this place. A place, which, he apparently couldn't leave. A place that separated him from his creatures, thrust him into a place where his magic was little more than barely within reach at his current ability level, and wandless. After recovering from the strange arrival in the fountain, he had gathered what belongings he had found himself possessing, and distanced himself from what seemed to be the town center.

After taking stock of everything, he'd gotten a very basic idea of the general layout, and since, has returned daily to the fountain. He may look rather strange, a tall man in navy blue scrubs hunched over as he checks the fountain, and the ground surrounding it for clues. What he's looking for are tracks of any sort that might mean any of his creatures might have accidentally found themselves in this place as well. So far, he's found nothing to indicate as much, but he's hardly keen on giving up so easily.

The Canyon Wall:

When Newt isn't tracking creatures who have simply not followed him through to this place, or foraging or fishing for the necessities, he is exploring the land. He's seen swarms of fireflies, and inspected them from a distance. Something nagging in the back of his mind kept him from straying too close, and they seem to congregate in places that might offer means of escape. The fountain. The canyon wall. How curious. He walks along the rock face, one way for a time, keeping a steady pace and counting his steps. He wishes he had paper to map out the area, but perhaps he can find something the next time he goes into town. If someone were willing to trade pad and paper for fish or what edible berries and plants he's found, that would be most appreciated, but it also requires he be willing to make the trek into the small town center.

He would really rather not, if that was all right with everyone.

The Woods:

Newt is used to sleeping rough. He spent a year in the field, the brunt of it in Equatorial Guinea, either taking rest in the shed and on the cot in his case, or making use of nature around him in the wilds. He finds a secure place to rest, where he is sheltered, and his position is protected, and he can gather his things quickly if entirely necessary. While he was not the war hero his brother was, he did still serve and fight (albeit under some duress) in the Great War, and he learned to move quickly from compromised positions.

When he isn't catching sleep at odd times, or running himself ragged as he finds ways to busy himself in this new environment, he's exploring and gathering. While there may not be much by way of hunting or foraging, there are seeds, and he gathers those in case they might be of use at a later time. It's during one of these trips that he hears the high-pitched chirp that most might mistake for a bird of some sort, but Newt knows to belong to a rather small mammal. A squirrel, in particular.

After a little bit of searching, mimicking the sound that the mother would return in answer as she tried to find her youngling, he finds a small, injured baby squirrel at the base of a tree. He crouches down carefully to inspect her, and lifts her up after she's grown somewhat accustomed to his scent.

"Hush, now," he murmurs as he lifts her close to his chest, bringing his peacoat around his hand to offer more warmth to the animal huddled in the palm of his hand. From what he can tell, she has a broken paw, and it doesn't look as if she's been seen to by her mother for days. Orphaned, probably. It does happen. A tension in his chest he hadn't realized had grown so tightly coiled lessens a little, and he smiles gently after what feels like ages. "Mum's here."

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