Name(s): Open to anyone not in the Library log!
Location: All over-- except the Library and Great Hall
Week: 41
Time: Around midday Saturday onwards, following the posting of Cid's journal
Rating: Uhhhhhm. There is violence, all mun approved, and a crazy ghost.
Note 1:PLEASE SEE
THE POST IN THE OOC COMM ABOUT INTERACTIONS IN THIS LOG. REPLYING THERE WILL REALLY HELP ME MAKE SURE I DON'T DO ANYTHING TOO CRAZY/NOT CRAZY ENOUGH HERE. In case anyone is interested or wondering wtf I am basing some of her abilities off, here are some links to her
canon powers from the City of Heroes MMORPG and the related sets
Dark Miasma and
Dark Blast. If you have any concerns, feel free to hit me in the OOC comm with questions or go to
Belladonna's HMD.
Note 2: SO MANY THREADS. *__* I AM GOING TO BE SLOW, BUT I WILL GET ALL THESE THREADS DONE IF IT KILLS ME o/ Basically don't worry if it takes me a few days to tag, because I WILL get through all of them. However: in the interests of being able to get to everyone, I am putting a TWO CHARACTER LIMIT per player. If you already have two characters in this log, sorry, but no more can come in. Additionally, any further characters added cannot start a new thread - please see next note.
IMPORTANT: CLOSED TO NEW THREADS. IF ANYONE ELSE WANTS TO JOIN, PLEASE POST INTO AN EXISTING THREAD -- ANY THREAD THAT HAS NOT BEEN SPECIFIED AS LIMITED TO CERTAIN CHARACTERS.
(For example, the Shunsui and Nanao or Claymore threads would NOT be a good place to put your characters, but any open threads are fine.)
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So this, this was what it was like to be solid again. This was what it was, to feel the ground beneath one's feet, and the breeze that slipped through Hogwarts open passageways dance through her hair.
A smile crawled over her lips. This was what it was, to take action. Magic crackled around her fingertips, three hundred years of knowledge and power gone untapped. A stray second year found themselves easily tossed aside as they tried to run past her. "Now now, little lamb. Your Ladyship has some simple business to attend to." Her hand gripped around the child's throat, cold, vice-like, before she threw them down.
"So, precious," she breathed, slowly retracing the steps to where her wand had lain for so many years. "What webs shall we weave?" It was divine, the prospect of being reunited with her old friend. She would savour the stroll; enjoy the sights, the sounds.