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It was unlikely any of her dust creations could digest a winged horse, but there were plenty of other things she could have done to bother the McBoid herd. As far as Raizel was concerned, sending the dragon to get the Scottish wizard's attention had been much more polite than some of her other options. But she had no interest in risking a run-in with McBoid's family, or with anyone else who might live here with him on this little farm.
The big Scotsman wasted no time in getting right to the point. Raizel flashed him a bold smile; in some ways, he very much acted like a sabra.
With a slow rotation of her wrist, she began to move her wand in a tight circle; in front of her, the small pile of dust began to stretch into a tower again, spiraling higher and higher.
"Looking for you," she replied helpfully, continuing to move her wand in a tight pirouette.
Sitting on the ground against the rock, the tower stretched nearly as high as her shoulders before it began to tremble again. Raizel held it for a second longer, and then let it collapse again; the dust cascaded back to the ground in a tumbling cloud.
"You are not very hard to find once someone starts looking," she added, looking up directly at McBoid. "I am surprised that you do not get more visitors here."
|
| 1. | Chairs, chairs, chairs. |
3
Other Wizarding Locations / Re: [April 6] Why is this night different from all other nights? [Snapshot]
March 21, 2021, 09:10:08 PM
Before long, Raizel too was sipping on arak, lounging against the countertops with her sister and her partner.
"So Yosef and Miriam are coming?" she asked, breaking a corner of matzah off as a snack. "Elias and Betje too?"
Eszter gave a quiet chuckle, tilting her head to the side. "And David and Rivkah, with all their little ones," she said, raising an eyebrow at her sister. "It's Bubbeh's ninetieth birthday. The whole family will be here."
Raizel let out a soundless whistle. In the old days, when they'd all been young, it hadn't been all that uncommon for their entire extended family to get together for the High Holidays: their parents, their father's brother Yosef and his family, their mother's sister and husband and children. But as the years had passed -- as she and Eszter and Benny, and their cousins David and Aviad had all graduated from Beit Gaddol and subsequently split off into their own lives -- the entire family had come together much less frequently. The last time that she'd seen everyone had been at Benny's funeral.
"No wonder Ima is so worked up," she said, and then tossed back the rest of her arak.
"I heard that!" her mother's voice announced loudly in Hebrew as the kitchen door swung open. She entered with purpose, immediately bustling over check on the pots that were simmering on the stove. "You think I don't know English, but I do! I've been practicing for Josie," she added, still in Hebrew, flashing a fond smile in the tall witch's direction.
Raizel and Eszter exchanged a look behind their mother's back. With difficulty, both sisters stifled a laugh.
The moment of shared camaraderie didn't last long, though. Ever the good child, Eszter neatly tucked her glass of arak out of sight behind a large ceramic jar and pushed herself up.
"Ima, how can we help?" she asked in Hebrew, following their mother to the stove.
Lea Cohen gave her eldest daughter a long-suffering look as she sighed and wiped at her brow. "I've got to get all these warming spells set before it's time to start," she said, a little dramatically. "Will you set up the seder plates? And Raizel, set the table," she added assertively, waving her hand at her middle child to shoo her away. "Hurry, they'll be here soon!"
Raizel, rolling her eyes, obediently picked up a stack of plates and started for the main dining room. Some duties were impossible to escape.
"So Yosef and Miriam are coming?" she asked, breaking a corner of matzah off as a snack. "Elias and Betje too?"
Eszter gave a quiet chuckle, tilting her head to the side. "And David and Rivkah, with all their little ones," she said, raising an eyebrow at her sister. "It's Bubbeh's ninetieth birthday. The whole family will be here."
Raizel let out a soundless whistle. In the old days, when they'd all been young, it hadn't been all that uncommon for their entire extended family to get together for the High Holidays: their parents, their father's brother Yosef and his family, their mother's sister and husband and children. But as the years had passed -- as she and Eszter and Benny, and their cousins David and Aviad had all graduated from Beit Gaddol and subsequently split off into their own lives -- the entire family had come together much less frequently. The last time that she'd seen everyone had been at Benny's funeral.
"No wonder Ima is so worked up," she said, and then tossed back the rest of her arak.
"I heard that!" her mother's voice announced loudly in Hebrew as the kitchen door swung open. She entered with purpose, immediately bustling over check on the pots that were simmering on the stove. "You think I don't know English, but I do! I've been practicing for Josie," she added, still in Hebrew, flashing a fond smile in the tall witch's direction.
Raizel and Eszter exchanged a look behind their mother's back. With difficulty, both sisters stifled a laugh.
The moment of shared camaraderie didn't last long, though. Ever the good child, Eszter neatly tucked her glass of arak out of sight behind a large ceramic jar and pushed herself up.
"Ima, how can we help?" she asked in Hebrew, following their mother to the stove.
Lea Cohen gave her eldest daughter a long-suffering look as she sighed and wiped at her brow. "I've got to get all these warming spells set before it's time to start," she said, a little dramatically. "Will you set up the seder plates? And Raizel, set the table," she added assertively, waving her hand at her middle child to shoo her away. "Hurry, they'll be here soon!"
Raizel, rolling her eyes, obediently picked up a stack of plates and started for the main dining room. Some duties were impossible to escape.
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Other Wizarding Locations / Re: [April 6] Why is this night different from all other nights? [Snapshot]
March 21, 2021, 08:44:50 PM
The smell of roasting lamb was already wafting through her mother's kitchen. The counters were lined with yellow tile, and ceramic plates covered in cheery blue and red flowers hung on the wall, lending a cheerful atmosphere to the already sunny room.
It was clear that her mother had already been busy. Along with the roasting lamb, all of the accoutrements for the night's seder were set out on the counters, ready to be shifted onto plates and brought out to the main table. The rest of dinner was at various levels of preparedness: a large pot of something was gurgling happily on the stove, as its neighbor was stirred incessantly by a very enthusiastic wooden spoon.
Two familiar faces leaned against back counter near the oven, their heads bent conspiratorially towards each other. They both jumped as Raizel entered, tucking glasses back out of sight.
Raizel shot them a discerning look. "Into the wine already?" she asked them nicely in English, as she surveyed the collection of food.
The shorter of the two women -- who shared Raizel's blonde hair and dark brown eyes -- gave a long-suffering grimace. "No, Dodah Miriam is coming," she replied, wrinkling her nose at Raizel. "Ima only bought Manischewitz for the seder."
The other inhabitant of the kitchen stood several inches taller than Raizel, with long black hair worn in tiny, tightly woven braids. She broke into an enormous grin, white teeth flashing, as she set her glass down and strode across the kitchen to embrace the younger mage in a hug.
"We picked up some arak at the market after we 'ported in," she said covertly, giving Raizel a wink. Her English was smooth and even, with a rolling rhythm that hinted at her place of birth. "Maybe we'll let you join us, as long as you don't tell your mother."
Raizel flashed a fierce smile back at her. She and her older sister Eszter had never really gotten along: Eszter had always been the smart one, the talented one, who shone above all others at Beit Gaddol and hadn't really slowed down since. After their brother Benny had died under mysterious circumstances, things had been even more tense between the two sisters for a while. But even during the worst of the siblings' estrangement, she had always liked Josiane Ruteneshwa, her sister's longtime girlfriend and now wife who worked alongside her in Brussels.
"Well, Ima did say to have something before the seder," she said cunningly, looking around for another glass.
Josiane laughed and gamely poured her a drink.
It was clear that her mother had already been busy. Along with the roasting lamb, all of the accoutrements for the night's seder were set out on the counters, ready to be shifted onto plates and brought out to the main table. The rest of dinner was at various levels of preparedness: a large pot of something was gurgling happily on the stove, as its neighbor was stirred incessantly by a very enthusiastic wooden spoon.
Two familiar faces leaned against back counter near the oven, their heads bent conspiratorially towards each other. They both jumped as Raizel entered, tucking glasses back out of sight.
Raizel shot them a discerning look. "Into the wine already?" she asked them nicely in English, as she surveyed the collection of food.
The shorter of the two women -- who shared Raizel's blonde hair and dark brown eyes -- gave a long-suffering grimace. "No, Dodah Miriam is coming," she replied, wrinkling her nose at Raizel. "Ima only bought Manischewitz for the seder."
The other inhabitant of the kitchen stood several inches taller than Raizel, with long black hair worn in tiny, tightly woven braids. She broke into an enormous grin, white teeth flashing, as she set her glass down and strode across the kitchen to embrace the younger mage in a hug.
"We picked up some arak at the market after we 'ported in," she said covertly, giving Raizel a wink. Her English was smooth and even, with a rolling rhythm that hinted at her place of birth. "Maybe we'll let you join us, as long as you don't tell your mother."
Raizel flashed a fierce smile back at her. She and her older sister Eszter had never really gotten along: Eszter had always been the smart one, the talented one, who shone above all others at Beit Gaddol and hadn't really slowed down since. After their brother Benny had died under mysterious circumstances, things had been even more tense between the two sisters for a while. But even during the worst of the siblings' estrangement, she had always liked Josiane Ruteneshwa, her sister's longtime girlfriend and now wife who worked alongside her in Brussels.
"Well, Ima did say to have something before the seder," she said cunningly, looking around for another glass.
Josiane laughed and gamely poured her a drink.
5
Other Wizarding Locations / [April 6] Why is this night different from all other nights? [Snapshot]
March 21, 2021, 07:42:51 PM
Two hours before sundown
Tel Aviv, Israel
14th of Nisan, 5772
The busy streets of Tel Aviv were starting to settle into their regular weekly slumber. A pair of electric scooters went racing by, their drivers revving their engines and shouting at each other to break the quiet that was falling over the streets.
Raizel gave them a bemused look as they went by. Shaking her head, she waited for a slow-moving car to pass in the opposite direction, and then carefully jogged across the street.
She missed the familiar patterns of home whenever she went abroad. Every Friday afternoon like clockwork, the city started to subside as everyone hurried home from work. The shuqs, markets, and bakeries were busy for maybe another hour after that as families grabbed the last few things they needed for supper. Then, as the sun set and Shabbat began, most of Tel Aviv seemed to relax for the night, comfortable in its shared tradition.
On this particular Friday, though, the markets had seemed especially busy as she made her way from her flat near Jaffa to her parents' home. Most of the Jewish-owned bakeries had long been closed and shuttered, out of respect for the week that was to come.
Her parents lived in a little block of white limestone houses set around a pretty garden. It was a small oasis amongst bustling Tel Aviv, built decades ago by a group of mage families that decided to make a shared home here and shielded from passing Muggle eyes. As Raizel lifted the latch on the gate to let herself in, she could hear the small fountain in the center of the garden burbling a familiar greeting, welcoming her back to the place that she and her siblings had called home for so long.
It was getting closer to sundown now, and it was clear that some of the families who lived in the other houses off the garden had already begun to gather for the holiday. Cheerful, faint chatter filled the air as Raizel made her way to her parents' door. Biting her lip, she tucked her right hand behind her back and raised her left hand nervously to knock.
Every year, she came home for Pesach, and every year, it was the same.
The door opened a moment later.
"Raizel!" Her mother's warm face greeted her, and a moment later, she was engulfed in a hug.
"Ima!" Raizel scolded, but she was laughing. She hugged her mother back, barely managing to get a finger on the mezuzah before she was hurried inside.
"You're late. Eszter and Josie are already here; everyone else should be here soon." Somehow, Lea Cohen had the undeniable ability to hug her daughter, usher her inside, and start scolding her in Hebrew all at once. She did so now, giving Raizel a stern look as she closed the door behind her. "Are you hungry? You should eat now if you want something before the seder. Eszter's in the kitchen," she urged her daughter, steering her through the living room to the aforementioned door. "I have to help your father summon a few more chairs, but you can set the table once we're ready."
Raizel laughed again, holding her hands up in mock defeat as she allowed herself to be guided through the house. There were some storms that even she wasn't willing to fight.
"Yes, ima," she said obediently, heading for her pre-ordained destination.
Tel Aviv, Israel
14th of Nisan, 5772
The busy streets of Tel Aviv were starting to settle into their regular weekly slumber. A pair of electric scooters went racing by, their drivers revving their engines and shouting at each other to break the quiet that was falling over the streets.
Raizel gave them a bemused look as they went by. Shaking her head, she waited for a slow-moving car to pass in the opposite direction, and then carefully jogged across the street.
She missed the familiar patterns of home whenever she went abroad. Every Friday afternoon like clockwork, the city started to subside as everyone hurried home from work. The shuqs, markets, and bakeries were busy for maybe another hour after that as families grabbed the last few things they needed for supper. Then, as the sun set and Shabbat began, most of Tel Aviv seemed to relax for the night, comfortable in its shared tradition.
On this particular Friday, though, the markets had seemed especially busy as she made her way from her flat near Jaffa to her parents' home. Most of the Jewish-owned bakeries had long been closed and shuttered, out of respect for the week that was to come.
Her parents lived in a little block of white limestone houses set around a pretty garden. It was a small oasis amongst bustling Tel Aviv, built decades ago by a group of mage families that decided to make a shared home here and shielded from passing Muggle eyes. As Raizel lifted the latch on the gate to let herself in, she could hear the small fountain in the center of the garden burbling a familiar greeting, welcoming her back to the place that she and her siblings had called home for so long.
It was getting closer to sundown now, and it was clear that some of the families who lived in the other houses off the garden had already begun to gather for the holiday. Cheerful, faint chatter filled the air as Raizel made her way to her parents' door. Biting her lip, she tucked her right hand behind her back and raised her left hand nervously to knock.
Every year, she came home for Pesach, and every year, it was the same.
The door opened a moment later.
"Raizel!" Her mother's warm face greeted her, and a moment later, she was engulfed in a hug.
"Ima!" Raizel scolded, but she was laughing. She hugged her mother back, barely managing to get a finger on the mezuzah before she was hurried inside.
"You're late. Eszter and Josie are already here; everyone else should be here soon." Somehow, Lea Cohen had the undeniable ability to hug her daughter, usher her inside, and start scolding her in Hebrew all at once. She did so now, giving Raizel a stern look as she closed the door behind her. "Are you hungry? You should eat now if you want something before the seder. Eszter's in the kitchen," she urged her daughter, steering her through the living room to the aforementioned door. "I have to help your father summon a few more chairs, but you can set the table once we're ready."
Raizel laughed again, holding her hands up in mock defeat as she allowed herself to be guided through the house. There were some storms that even she wasn't willing to fight.
"Yes, ima," she said obediently, heading for her pre-ordained destination.
6
Correspondence / [April 6] Pesach Sameach
March 21, 2021, 06:51:41 PM
Early in the morning on April 6, a small wicker basket is brought to Savvina Katopodis in her cell. There's nothing to date when it was first received at the Ministry, but it seems to have been delivered fairly recent, judging by the still-fresh state of its contents.
It's clear that someone from Level Two has been through and checked the contents thoroughly. Though the items inside have been shuffled around, nothing seems to have been removed.
Inside the basket, someone has included what might appear to be a strange variety of food items: a hard-boiled egg, some lettuce, a small bunch of parsley, a shank bone, a bit of horseradish root, and an orange. There's a small container filled with a sweet-smelling mix of chopped apples and walnuts mixed with cinnamon, and another with a small amount of salt water. There is also a stack of flat crackers: homemade matzot.
Along with the food, the sender has tucked a thin Hebrew book. The cover reads Haggadah shel Pesach.
On the inside cover of the book, the sender has left a short note.[1]
It's clear that someone from Level Two has been through and checked the contents thoroughly. Though the items inside have been shuffled around, nothing seems to have been removed.
Inside the basket, someone has included what might appear to be a strange variety of food items: a hard-boiled egg, some lettuce, a small bunch of parsley, a shank bone, a bit of horseradish root, and an orange. There's a small container filled with a sweet-smelling mix of chopped apples and walnuts mixed with cinnamon, and another with a small amount of salt water. There is also a stack of flat crackers: homemade matzot.
Along with the food, the sender has tucked a thin Hebrew book. The cover reads Haggadah shel Pesach.
On the inside cover of the book, the sender has left a short note.[1]
פסח סמאץ
רייזל
| 1. | Happy Passover, Raizel |
7
McBoid Farm / Re: [March 6] Dry as a Bone
March 14, 2021, 07:31:04 PM
There wasn't much dust in these green hills, but Raizel had saved herself a small cloud of it. As she lounged against a gray rock outcropping, she toyed with it, letting the tiny particulates form themselves into a delicate, windswept castle, which held its shape for a moment and then crumbled away into a swirling cloud again.
She'd expected McBoid to come quickly once he'd been summoned, and the big Scotsman hardly disappointed. Raizel looked up as he approached, flashing him a smug, self-satisfied smile as she let her latest design -- a small, spiraling tower that rose to the peak of a cone-shaped roof -- dissolve away into dust again.
"Duncan McBoid," she replied, looking him over.
It was both disappointing and to be expected that he was fully clothed this time.[1] If that was the price of him not immediately hexing her for intruding on him and surprising him in his home, though, she'd gladly take the trade-off.
"I see that you are still chasing dragons, even if they are closer to home this time." She favored him with a smirk, clearly pleased that her summoning method had worked. "How are your winged horses?"
She'd expected McBoid to come quickly once he'd been summoned, and the big Scotsman hardly disappointed. Raizel looked up as he approached, flashing him a smug, self-satisfied smile as she let her latest design -- a small, spiraling tower that rose to the peak of a cone-shaped roof -- dissolve away into dust again.
"Duncan McBoid," she replied, looking him over.
It was both disappointing and to be expected that he was fully clothed this time.[1] If that was the price of him not immediately hexing her for intruding on him and surprising him in his home, though, she'd gladly take the trade-off.
"I see that you are still chasing dragons, even if they are closer to home this time." She favored him with a smirk, clearly pleased that her summoning method had worked. "How are your winged horses?"
| 1. | Last time... |
8
McBoid Farm / [March 6] Dry as a Bone
February 26, 2021, 10:33:55 PM
Whatever she'd been expecting, the nondescript little farm tucked into the rolling green hills of Scotland hadn't been it.
Raizel stood on a hill overlooking the small ranch, arms crossed and lips pursed. It hadn't been hard to find the address on record for the McBoid family once she'd decided to look for it; everyone had a vault at Gringotts, and that meant that everyone had information on file, even if it took some careful negotiation to get it. For all of his misadventures abroad, Duncan McBoid had never been particularly secretive about his public career. It was simple enough to connect the dots between the Scottish wizard who was an occasional ally and occasional kotz ba'tachat when it came to Gringotts assignments involving magical creatures, and the family that raised winged horses in the United Kingdom's far north.
She could have owled ahead, but that hardly seemed sporting. McBoid was hardly going to be happy that she was surprising him at home: in some ways, this invasion was much more personal than their last encounter, when she'd surprised him stepping out of the shower.[1] But then again, the information that she'd gleaned earlier hardly seemed like the sort of news that could wait.
Still, the Cursebreaker mused. If she surprised McBoid right in the thick of his little ranch, he wasn't about to be pleased about it. She wasn't exactly looking to get hexed; nor did she particularly want to have to explain herself to the Scottish wizard's little family.
The mage wrapped her fingers carefully around her wand. "Ki apar atah," she murmured.
There wasn't nearly as much dust in these green hills as there was in the sandy streets near her home, but there was still enough. She could feel it snap to attention as the spell settled across the grass, trembling as it waited for her next command.
A few moments later, something in the shape of the dragon went sailing over the McBoid farm. It held its form for only an instant before it disintegrated, disappearing in a shower of fine dirt that rained down and temporarily blurred the setting sun.
Smirking to herself, Raizel settled in to wait.
Raizel stood on a hill overlooking the small ranch, arms crossed and lips pursed. It hadn't been hard to find the address on record for the McBoid family once she'd decided to look for it; everyone had a vault at Gringotts, and that meant that everyone had information on file, even if it took some careful negotiation to get it. For all of his misadventures abroad, Duncan McBoid had never been particularly secretive about his public career. It was simple enough to connect the dots between the Scottish wizard who was an occasional ally and occasional kotz ba'tachat when it came to Gringotts assignments involving magical creatures, and the family that raised winged horses in the United Kingdom's far north.
She could have owled ahead, but that hardly seemed sporting. McBoid was hardly going to be happy that she was surprising him at home: in some ways, this invasion was much more personal than their last encounter, when she'd surprised him stepping out of the shower.[1] But then again, the information that she'd gleaned earlier hardly seemed like the sort of news that could wait.
Still, the Cursebreaker mused. If she surprised McBoid right in the thick of his little ranch, he wasn't about to be pleased about it. She wasn't exactly looking to get hexed; nor did she particularly want to have to explain herself to the Scottish wizard's little family.
The mage wrapped her fingers carefully around her wand. "Ki apar atah," she murmured.
There wasn't nearly as much dust in these green hills as there was in the sandy streets near her home, but there was still enough. She could feel it snap to attention as the spell settled across the grass, trembling as it waited for her next command.
A few moments later, something in the shape of the dragon went sailing over the McBoid farm. It held its form for only an instant before it disintegrated, disappearing in a shower of fine dirt that rained down and temporarily blurred the setting sun.
Smirking to herself, Raizel settled in to wait.
| 1. | December 28, 2011 - Far Over the Misty Mountains |
9
Level Two: Magical Law Enforcement / Re: [January 17] Yiyeh B'seder
November 29, 2020, 07:40:08 PM
It had been curiosity that had driven her to ignore her misgivings about the British Ministry and come here today: curiosity at encountering another Beit Gaddol graduate so far from home, and perhaps a tinge of guilt or sympathy after Trevelyan had relayed part of Savvina's story. Raizel might have even entertained the notion that she alone could put part of the pieces together, could figure out the strange link between her old school friend's past and the predicament that the once-unregistered werewolf had found herself in.
But Savvina's words seemed design to force her to be more than just a passive reader dabbling in this sad story. If Savvina was to be believed, then it was Raizel, or someone who looked very much like her, whom she might have encountered in a park.
The Cursebreaker knew the unspoken agreement she'd made with Trevelyan. He'd gotten her in to see Savvina, with the understanding that if she learned anything that might be helpful to the Ministry, then she'd share it with him in return. But now that she'd been forced to confront her old friend's words, Raizel wanted more than anything to simply flee from this place, to ignore the weight of what Savvina had implied until she was far, far away from the Ministry's reach.
At Raizel's insistence, the mage in front of her had seemed to pull back, to withdraw suddenly within herself. Savvina gave her an empty smile, a mere depression where there had been such warmth mere moments before.
"You must be right," she started to say.
It wasn't cruelty that drove her, but it might have looked at such as Raizel rose to her feet.
"Well, I hope you can find out the truth of it," she said, switching back to stiff English for the first time since her former schoolmate had entered the small room. She looked to the door, where Trevelyan had said the Hitwizards would be waiting, and started towards it. "I hope that it can lead you back home again, Savvina."
But Savvina's words seemed design to force her to be more than just a passive reader dabbling in this sad story. If Savvina was to be believed, then it was Raizel, or someone who looked very much like her, whom she might have encountered in a park.
The Cursebreaker knew the unspoken agreement she'd made with Trevelyan. He'd gotten her in to see Savvina, with the understanding that if she learned anything that might be helpful to the Ministry, then she'd share it with him in return. But now that she'd been forced to confront her old friend's words, Raizel wanted more than anything to simply flee from this place, to ignore the weight of what Savvina had implied until she was far, far away from the Ministry's reach.
At Raizel's insistence, the mage in front of her had seemed to pull back, to withdraw suddenly within herself. Savvina gave her an empty smile, a mere depression where there had been such warmth mere moments before.
"You must be right," she started to say.
It wasn't cruelty that drove her, but it might have looked at such as Raizel rose to her feet.
"Well, I hope you can find out the truth of it," she said, switching back to stiff English for the first time since her former schoolmate had entered the small room. She looked to the door, where Trevelyan had said the Hitwizards would be waiting, and started towards it. "I hope that it can lead you back home again, Savvina."
10
Level Two: Magical Law Enforcement / Re: [January 17] Yiyeh B'seder
September 12, 2020, 06:21:15 PM
Savvina rose and motioned for her to lower her voice, but Raizel backed up another step. This story that her old school friend was spinning -- a surprise encounter in a park -- clearly hadn't happened. Trevelyan had told her that Savvina had been arrested by the Ministry back in early December. The last time that Raizel had been in England was over two years before, and she certainly would have remembered encountering an old school friend back then.
Had Savvina dreamed this up, after seeing her here now? Was something damaged in her memory? Or was this some fake remembrance, planted by Tawse when he'd kidnapped her? Whatever the answer was, it suggested uncomfortable truths that she hadn't prepared herself to face today. Why would a British magical terrorist even know about her to implant her in Savvina's memory?
The Cursebreaker swallowed uncomfortably, her gaze darting first to one side, then the other, as if searching for an escape.
"You are confused," she said, her voice halting. Savvina was looking more like a trapped animal again now, wary and distrustful, like she had for the first few seconds when the Hitwizard had first brought her in. Raizel swallowed, but didn't back down.
"There's nothing to remember, Savvina," she said firmly, shaking her head. "I never saw you in a park. I don't even know who Skýlos is! Whatever you think happened, it isn't real."
Had Savvina dreamed this up, after seeing her here now? Was something damaged in her memory? Or was this some fake remembrance, planted by Tawse when he'd kidnapped her? Whatever the answer was, it suggested uncomfortable truths that she hadn't prepared herself to face today. Why would a British magical terrorist even know about her to implant her in Savvina's memory?
The Cursebreaker swallowed uncomfortably, her gaze darting first to one side, then the other, as if searching for an escape.
"You are confused," she said, her voice halting. Savvina was looking more like a trapped animal again now, wary and distrustful, like she had for the first few seconds when the Hitwizard had first brought her in. Raizel swallowed, but didn't back down.
"There's nothing to remember, Savvina," she said firmly, shaking her head. "I never saw you in a park. I don't even know who Skýlos is! Whatever you think happened, it isn't real."
11
Level Two: Magical Law Enforcement / Re: [January 17] Yiyeh B'seder
September 06, 2020, 07:03:44 PM
She hadn’t really been expecting for her questioning to get them anywhere that the Aurors couldn’t — there were one or two in the London office that she might trust, like Jonas Trevelyan, but Raizel knew as well as anyone what Auror questioning was really like — but Savinna’s initial response still made her blink.
Raizel squinted at her, brows quirking together. Werewolf hunters and false beaches? What in l’azazel was her old school friend talking about?
Savvina went on, and her words softened Raizel’s consideration. Yes, routine certainly made one day slide into the next, particularly when there was nothing to look forward to and nothing to mark the passage of time. It could move too slow and too quickly all at once, where a week could stretch into an eternity and entire months flew by in the stroke of a heartbeat.
But before she could commiserate with the creeping and precipitous nature of time, a strange look slid over Savvina’s face, sending a chill shivering down the Cursebreaker’s back.
"I remember you.”
“What?” she said, and backed up a step. Savvina thought she’d been happy to see her? That in itself was severely discomforting, as was the way that her old school friend was looking at her. The implication that she’d meant anything to anybody made her want to bolt for the door.
But she couldn’t run, not without having to call for Trevelyan or someone else to let her out again, and that would mean someone wanting an explanation, which would surely bring up this whole uncomfortable line of conversation all over again.
“Savvina, what are you talking about?” she asked the other mage sharply, the Hebrew words clean and crisp. She crossed her arms against her chest, all elbows and sharp edges as she leveled a look at the werewolf. “I haven’t been in England in two years. You haven’t seen me.”
Raizel squinted at her, brows quirking together. Werewolf hunters and false beaches? What in l’azazel was her old school friend talking about?
Savvina went on, and her words softened Raizel’s consideration. Yes, routine certainly made one day slide into the next, particularly when there was nothing to look forward to and nothing to mark the passage of time. It could move too slow and too quickly all at once, where a week could stretch into an eternity and entire months flew by in the stroke of a heartbeat.
But before she could commiserate with the creeping and precipitous nature of time, a strange look slid over Savvina’s face, sending a chill shivering down the Cursebreaker’s back.
"I remember you.”
“What?” she said, and backed up a step. Savvina thought she’d been happy to see her? That in itself was severely discomforting, as was the way that her old school friend was looking at her. The implication that she’d meant anything to anybody made her want to bolt for the door.
But she couldn’t run, not without having to call for Trevelyan or someone else to let her out again, and that would mean someone wanting an explanation, which would surely bring up this whole uncomfortable line of conversation all over again.
“Savvina, what are you talking about?” she asked the other mage sharply, the Hebrew words clean and crisp. She crossed her arms against her chest, all elbows and sharp edges as she leveled a look at the werewolf. “I haven’t been in England in two years. You haven’t seen me.”
12
Muggle London / Re: [January 27] Take a Memo [Snapshot]
July 20, 2020, 11:25:49 PM
Raizel couldn’t help but be offended.
“Too much of a trick?” she echoed, giving the red-haired Auror a disapproving look. Whoever had hidden this small space had obviously known what they were doing, but it was quite a supposition to assume that she didn’t know her craft even better. Huffing, she dug into the bag that she’d slung over her shoulder and pulled out a small, patterned cylinder and some clay.
It only took a few moments to get set: one to flatten the clay and press it against the hidden runic circle in a criss-crossed X shape, and then a second moment to roll the cylinder seal across it, imprinting the clay with her own set of runes. Raizel raised her wand and murmured a spell, touching the tip of the spiraled wood to the center-point of the clay X.
The entire thing glowed a faint, pale blue for half a second, and then the whole thing seemed to crumble away like dust. As it dissolved, the portion of the wall marked by the runic circle disintegrated with it.
Next to her, Jonas raised his eyebrows. “Nicely done,” he said, stepping closer to peer inside the newly revealed compartment.
It was about a meter tall by a meter wide, though it stretched back a little farther in. Trevelyan glanced over his shoulder, and then pulled out his Muggle cell phone. Sliding his thumb back and forth over the screen, he activated what seemed to be a bright torchlight, and then angled it into the compartment, squinting after it to see.
The inside of the compartment stretched back about a meter as well. From where Raizel was standing, it looked empty. Whatever might have been concealed there once, it was clear that someone had long since come to claim their cargo.
A cold wind tickled the back of her neck. Raizel sighed and snuggled deeper into her coat, glancing over her shoulder at the Muggle street. Despite her visible display of magic, no one seemed to be paying them any attention.
“Here’s something,” Trevelyan said abruptly.
Blinking, she turned back towards him.
The Auror had extracted what looked to be a small, curved tooth, no bigger than a toothpick. Gingerly, he gripped it between two fingers, holding it up for her to see.
A wary look crossed Raizel’s face, and she met his gaze as he freed a napkin from his pocket and tucked the tiny sliver inside.. They both knew what that was.
A Runespoor fang.
This time, a real shiver ran down Raizel’s back.
“We should go,” she said, glancing back uncomfortably at the street. There was still no sign that anyone was watching them, but now even the Muggles walking by looked a little ominous. Runespoor smugglers were notorious: only desperate wizards trafficked in such dangerous wares. Even back when she had run with the likes of Topuluk, they had rarely dabbled in the trade.
Jonas was peering into the concealed compartment again, giving it one last sweep with the light from his phone. Suddenly, he stopped, looking intently at something inside.
As he leaned back again, he was holding a torn piece of bright purple paper, held tightly between two fingers.
Raizel blinked. “What’s that?” she asked warily.
The Auror paused for a moment, looking almost as if he were about to say something, but he quickly shook his head. “No idea, mate,” he said, reaching into his pocket again. He tucked the purple slip of paper into the napkin with the Runespoor fang and slipped it back out of sight.
Forehead creasing, he glanced at her again. “Reckon you can close that up again?”
First she was brought all this way to open something, then she was told to close it once again. Raizel made a face. “This counts as two favors,” she grumbled at him as she drew her wand.
But she was just as eager to get out of here as he was. Taking a deep breath, she set about restoring the wall once more.
“Too much of a trick?” she echoed, giving the red-haired Auror a disapproving look. Whoever had hidden this small space had obviously known what they were doing, but it was quite a supposition to assume that she didn’t know her craft even better. Huffing, she dug into the bag that she’d slung over her shoulder and pulled out a small, patterned cylinder and some clay.
It only took a few moments to get set: one to flatten the clay and press it against the hidden runic circle in a criss-crossed X shape, and then a second moment to roll the cylinder seal across it, imprinting the clay with her own set of runes. Raizel raised her wand and murmured a spell, touching the tip of the spiraled wood to the center-point of the clay X.
The entire thing glowed a faint, pale blue for half a second, and then the whole thing seemed to crumble away like dust. As it dissolved, the portion of the wall marked by the runic circle disintegrated with it.
Next to her, Jonas raised his eyebrows. “Nicely done,” he said, stepping closer to peer inside the newly revealed compartment.
It was about a meter tall by a meter wide, though it stretched back a little farther in. Trevelyan glanced over his shoulder, and then pulled out his Muggle cell phone. Sliding his thumb back and forth over the screen, he activated what seemed to be a bright torchlight, and then angled it into the compartment, squinting after it to see.
The inside of the compartment stretched back about a meter as well. From where Raizel was standing, it looked empty. Whatever might have been concealed there once, it was clear that someone had long since come to claim their cargo.
A cold wind tickled the back of her neck. Raizel sighed and snuggled deeper into her coat, glancing over her shoulder at the Muggle street. Despite her visible display of magic, no one seemed to be paying them any attention.
“Here’s something,” Trevelyan said abruptly.
Blinking, she turned back towards him.
The Auror had extracted what looked to be a small, curved tooth, no bigger than a toothpick. Gingerly, he gripped it between two fingers, holding it up for her to see.
A wary look crossed Raizel’s face, and she met his gaze as he freed a napkin from his pocket and tucked the tiny sliver inside.. They both knew what that was.
A Runespoor fang.
This time, a real shiver ran down Raizel’s back.
“We should go,” she said, glancing back uncomfortably at the street. There was still no sign that anyone was watching them, but now even the Muggles walking by looked a little ominous. Runespoor smugglers were notorious: only desperate wizards trafficked in such dangerous wares. Even back when she had run with the likes of Topuluk, they had rarely dabbled in the trade.
Jonas was peering into the concealed compartment again, giving it one last sweep with the light from his phone. Suddenly, he stopped, looking intently at something inside.
As he leaned back again, he was holding a torn piece of bright purple paper, held tightly between two fingers.
Raizel blinked. “What’s that?” she asked warily.
The Auror paused for a moment, looking almost as if he were about to say something, but he quickly shook his head. “No idea, mate,” he said, reaching into his pocket again. He tucked the purple slip of paper into the napkin with the Runespoor fang and slipped it back out of sight.
Forehead creasing, he glanced at her again. “Reckon you can close that up again?”
First she was brought all this way to open something, then she was told to close it once again. Raizel made a face. “This counts as two favors,” she grumbled at him as she drew her wand.
But she was just as eager to get out of here as he was. Taking a deep breath, she set about restoring the wall once more.
13
Level Two: Magical Law Enforcement / Re: [January 17] Yiyeh B'seder
May 05, 2020, 08:51:17 PM
It could be nothing less than a sad, sad story. It was sad enough to see her old school friend like this, locked away inside the depths of the British Ministry. Raizel would have gone mad in such a place; and yet Savvina's captivity wasn't the climax of the story that she told, but rather its denouement. It had been a sad, terrible road that brought her, and a sad, terrible, endless delay that made her suffer now.
The tale that she told was simple enough. Taken in December. Raizel clucked her tongue, disapproving. Stolen and set loose. The Cursebreaker had only faced a werewolf once in her life, in an adventure that had taken place far away from here, but she would be happy if she never encountered such a beast again. And someone had kidnapped Savvina and turned her loose when she was in her most monstrous form. If she'd murdered wixes, she was probably lucky that the unforgiving British werewolf hunters hadn't killed her.
"It was that Tawse, yeh?" she asked, disapproval creeping across her expression.
Trevelyan had said that much: Tawse the wizard terrorist, who threatened fear and death against the Ministry. Raizel could sympathize a little: a world without Ministrys to make rules and enforce regulations would be a much better one. But there was a difference between wanting something and being willing to murder others for it.
It was a British battle, and not one that the Cursebreaker particularly wanted any part of. But Savvina, poor Savvina, had been dragged into the middle of it. And now, as she'd said, this was where she'd woken up: trapped in the middle of a terrible story, with no way to exit this distinctly British fight.
But that did beg the question. Tawse had kidnapped Savvina. Why had a British magical terrorist and murderer chosen her friend of all people to drag into this fight?
Her brows knitted as she regarded her old schoolmate. Trevelyan had also said that Savvina didn't remember what had happened to her, but Raizel wasn't surprised that she hadn't shared anything with the Aurors. It was one thing to insist you didn't know anything when the British Ministry of Magic was questioning you; it was different when it was only her.
"You don't remember anything?" she pressed, a frown crossing her face. "Nothing about how he found you? Had you met him before somewhere, Savvina?"
The tale that she told was simple enough. Taken in December. Raizel clucked her tongue, disapproving. Stolen and set loose. The Cursebreaker had only faced a werewolf once in her life, in an adventure that had taken place far away from here, but she would be happy if she never encountered such a beast again. And someone had kidnapped Savvina and turned her loose when she was in her most monstrous form. If she'd murdered wixes, she was probably lucky that the unforgiving British werewolf hunters hadn't killed her.
"It was that Tawse, yeh?" she asked, disapproval creeping across her expression.
Trevelyan had said that much: Tawse the wizard terrorist, who threatened fear and death against the Ministry. Raizel could sympathize a little: a world without Ministrys to make rules and enforce regulations would be a much better one. But there was a difference between wanting something and being willing to murder others for it.
It was a British battle, and not one that the Cursebreaker particularly wanted any part of. But Savvina, poor Savvina, had been dragged into the middle of it. And now, as she'd said, this was where she'd woken up: trapped in the middle of a terrible story, with no way to exit this distinctly British fight.
But that did beg the question. Tawse had kidnapped Savvina. Why had a British magical terrorist and murderer chosen her friend of all people to drag into this fight?
Her brows knitted as she regarded her old schoolmate. Trevelyan had also said that Savvina didn't remember what had happened to her, but Raizel wasn't surprised that she hadn't shared anything with the Aurors. It was one thing to insist you didn't know anything when the British Ministry of Magic was questioning you; it was different when it was only her.
"You don't remember anything?" she pressed, a frown crossing her face. "Nothing about how he found you? Had you met him before somewhere, Savvina?"
14
Level Two: Magical Law Enforcement / Re: [January 17] Yiyeh B'seder
February 01, 2020, 05:30:23 PM
The Cursebreaker laughed, flashing her old schoolmate a tight, bemused smile. There was no hospitality to offer here, not in this small, cold room in the middle of the British Ministry.
It was far from a suitable place for a reunion, but it was what they had, here and in this moment. Despite being years older than the last time that she'd seen her, Savvina seemed much smaller than Raizel remembered; smaller and much more fragile, as if moving too quickly might cause her to shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces.
"I am well," Raizel said, automatically slipping her right hand into her pocket out of sight. "Eszter was well, the last time I saw her. Stubborn," she added with a faint smile. That was one thing the two Cohen sisters had always had in common, much more so than their younger brother, Benny. "She is married and living in Brussels now, working with the IFW."
Savvina had drawn back, crossing her arms against her chest and looking concerned. Worried, perhaps, about the business that had brought Raizel here. That was fair enough; if Raizel herself had been in Ministry custody for weeks only to have an old friend appear out of nowhere, she would have been equally suspicious of the circumstances.
"I work as a Cursebreaker for the goblin bank based here in London," she said mildly, raising an eyebrow at her schoolmate. “I had stopped in to see my friend while I was here in the city to help him with a favor, and he mentioned that they had — had someone here in custody who had graduated from Beit Gaddol.” The other word, the werewolf word, still felt too strange to apply to Savvina. Whatever had happened to her friend after she’d left school, Raizel knew that she’d hardly scratched the surface of it.
“How are you?” she asked, biting her lip as she stepped back. The other mage looked so much older than she had, so much more worn. It seemed hard to believe that it was only due to her imprisonment in the British Ministry. “What happened, Savvina?”
It was far from a suitable place for a reunion, but it was what they had, here and in this moment. Despite being years older than the last time that she'd seen her, Savvina seemed much smaller than Raizel remembered; smaller and much more fragile, as if moving too quickly might cause her to shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces.
"I am well," Raizel said, automatically slipping her right hand into her pocket out of sight. "Eszter was well, the last time I saw her. Stubborn," she added with a faint smile. That was one thing the two Cohen sisters had always had in common, much more so than their younger brother, Benny. "She is married and living in Brussels now, working with the IFW."
Savvina had drawn back, crossing her arms against her chest and looking concerned. Worried, perhaps, about the business that had brought Raizel here. That was fair enough; if Raizel herself had been in Ministry custody for weeks only to have an old friend appear out of nowhere, she would have been equally suspicious of the circumstances.
"I work as a Cursebreaker for the goblin bank based here in London," she said mildly, raising an eyebrow at her schoolmate. “I had stopped in to see my friend while I was here in the city to help him with a favor, and he mentioned that they had — had someone here in custody who had graduated from Beit Gaddol.” The other word, the werewolf word, still felt too strange to apply to Savvina. Whatever had happened to her friend after she’d left school, Raizel knew that she’d hardly scratched the surface of it.
“How are you?” she asked, biting her lip as she stepped back. The other mage looked so much older than she had, so much more worn. It seemed hard to believe that it was only due to her imprisonment in the British Ministry. “What happened, Savvina?”
15
Level Two: Magical Law Enforcement / Re: [January 17] Yiyeh B'seder
December 19, 2019, 11:08:48 PM
The door opened, and in stepped a thin, gaunt female mage with dark curly hair and tired eyes.
Once upon a time, Raizel had known her well. Savvina Katopodis had been two years ahead of her in Gibbor, in the same class as her older sister Eszter. Savvina had left Jerusalem a year before she would have graduated alongside Raizel's sister, instead moving back home to Greece after her father had passed away. Raizel hadn't bothered to keep in touch with most of her schoolmates, and she'd heard no news of Savvina since she'd vanished from school.
But here she stood, looking as if she'd suffered through a dozen lifetimes in the dozen years that had passed since they'd parted ways at Beit Gaddol. Time had not been kind to the Greek mage. She was much, much thinner than Raizel remembered her, with a shadowed look making her eyes wary and deep lines marking her face.
Savvina froze, staring at her. An instant later, she'd crossed the room, throwing her arms around Raizel. The Israeli mage stiffened, uncomfortable at the sudden contact, but caught herself an instant later, reaching up to awkwardly put her arms around her old school friend.
"How are you here?" asked Savvina, her voice muffled by Raizel's shoulder. "How did you find me?"
Raizel gave a slight smile, drawing back to regard her better.
"One of the British Aurors," she said, shifting automatically to Hebrew. If her English had become a little rusty after spending so long away from the United Kingdom, her Greek was even worse. "He is a friend. I had some other business with him, and he asked if I might know of you from Beit Gaddol."
Once upon a time, Raizel had known her well. Savvina Katopodis had been two years ahead of her in Gibbor, in the same class as her older sister Eszter. Savvina had left Jerusalem a year before she would have graduated alongside Raizel's sister, instead moving back home to Greece after her father had passed away. Raizel hadn't bothered to keep in touch with most of her schoolmates, and she'd heard no news of Savvina since she'd vanished from school.
But here she stood, looking as if she'd suffered through a dozen lifetimes in the dozen years that had passed since they'd parted ways at Beit Gaddol. Time had not been kind to the Greek mage. She was much, much thinner than Raizel remembered her, with a shadowed look making her eyes wary and deep lines marking her face.
Savvina froze, staring at her. An instant later, she'd crossed the room, throwing her arms around Raizel. The Israeli mage stiffened, uncomfortable at the sudden contact, but caught herself an instant later, reaching up to awkwardly put her arms around her old school friend.
"How are you here?" asked Savvina, her voice muffled by Raizel's shoulder. "How did you find me?"
Raizel gave a slight smile, drawing back to regard her better.
"One of the British Aurors," she said, shifting automatically to Hebrew. If her English had become a little rusty after spending so long away from the United Kingdom, her Greek was even worse. "He is a friend. I had some other business with him, and he asked if I might know of you from Beit Gaddol."