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portusnovus_ooc2020-11-11 05:41 am
portusmod) wrote in portusnovus_ooc2020-11-11 05:41 am
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ℋ The Knight Bus
Two weeks to the start of term, everyone is gathered up for a trip to Diagon Alley, a magical shopping district somewhere in London. Professor McGonagall is chaperoning the trip and she makes sure everyone is all grouped up and accounted for before she proceeds.
"Right, right, gather 'round," she says shortly, rolling up the parchment she'd been using to tic names off. "You might find this next part startling, but please refrain from screaming."
Professor McGonagall sticks out her wand arm, much like she's trying to hail an unseen taxi. What happens next is a blink-and-you-miss-it moment as a large, purple, triple decker bus seems to squeeze itself out of thin air at an incredible speed, screeching to a halt in front of the gathered group. "The Knight Bus," McGonagall says coolly, putting her wand away.
"Take it away, Ern!" booms a jovial voice, once everyone is seated. Upon further investigation, the voice belongs to a small, shrunken head hanging from the rear-view mirror, much like a macabre car decoration.
With a loud bang, the Knight Bus is off. It moves at impossible speeds, already seemingly hundreds of miles away from Hogwarts in the blink of an eye as it speeds down lone country roads, swerving to and fro to avoid obstacles.
"Hold on tight, it's about to get real bumpy, eh!" the shrunken head booms out, cackling as the bus speeds to a halt to avoid muggle traffic that seemingly appeared out of nowhere as you realize you're already in a city.
The force of the stop is jarring, if you aren't holding onto something it's quite possible you'll go flying out of your seat. No sooner than the bus stops does it start again, the interior of the bus shrinking as it starts to squeeze through a narrow opening in the city traffic. It expands again as the bus finally finishes squeezing through, and all of a sudden you're thrown back against your seat as the bus takes off with another bang.
"The bus usually be much more crowded dan dis," the shrunken head says to no one in particular as the bus zooms along. "But da headmaster be reserving the whole bus for dis trip!"
Another hard stop, a sharp turn, a badly timed school crossing and several agonizing minutes later, the bus slams to a stop for the final time. "Leaky Cauldron!" the shrunken head calls out.
Professor McGonagall leads everyone off of the bus, to the door of an old, dingy looking pub on the corner. "This way, if you please."
"Right, right, gather 'round," she says shortly, rolling up the parchment she'd been using to tic names off. "You might find this next part startling, but please refrain from screaming."
Professor McGonagall sticks out her wand arm, much like she's trying to hail an unseen taxi. What happens next is a blink-and-you-miss-it moment as a large, purple, triple decker bus seems to squeeze itself out of thin air at an incredible speed, screeching to a halt in front of the gathered group. "The Knight Bus," McGonagall says coolly, putting her wand away.
"Take it away, Ern!" booms a jovial voice, once everyone is seated. Upon further investigation, the voice belongs to a small, shrunken head hanging from the rear-view mirror, much like a macabre car decoration.
With a loud bang, the Knight Bus is off. It moves at impossible speeds, already seemingly hundreds of miles away from Hogwarts in the blink of an eye as it speeds down lone country roads, swerving to and fro to avoid obstacles.
"Hold on tight, it's about to get real bumpy, eh!" the shrunken head booms out, cackling as the bus speeds to a halt to avoid muggle traffic that seemingly appeared out of nowhere as you realize you're already in a city.
The force of the stop is jarring, if you aren't holding onto something it's quite possible you'll go flying out of your seat. No sooner than the bus stops does it start again, the interior of the bus shrinking as it starts to squeeze through a narrow opening in the city traffic. It expands again as the bus finally finishes squeezing through, and all of a sudden you're thrown back against your seat as the bus takes off with another bang.
"The bus usually be much more crowded dan dis," the shrunken head says to no one in particular as the bus zooms along. "But da headmaster be reserving the whole bus for dis trip!"
Another hard stop, a sharp turn, a badly timed school crossing and several agonizing minutes later, the bus slams to a stop for the final time. "Leaky Cauldron!" the shrunken head calls out.
Professor McGonagall leads everyone off of the bus, to the door of an old, dingy looking pub on the corner. "This way, if you please."
ℋ The Leaky Cauldron
Before heading off to Diagon Alley proper, your little field trip includes a stop at the infamous Leaky Cauldron. On the outside, it looks a bit worse for wear, you're not really sure if Professor McGonagall is fooling you as she leads you inside. It just seems so... ordinary. Perhaps it's because it's sitting right on the corner of what's clearly a very ordinary street.
Muggles- non-magic folk- are going about their business, seemingly oblivious to the fact you and your group all just got out of a triple decker bus moving at the speed of light.
Nevertheless, Professor McGonagall leads you into the shabby tavern, where a tired looking wizard stands behind the bar. All around him, dishes wipe themselves clean, chairs push themselves into place at their tables and trays of drinks float around lazily, dispensing themselves to various tables around the bar.
"We might as well have a spot of breakfast while we're here," Professor McGonagall says, situation herself at the bar as she begins to make small talk with the barkeeper, Tom.
She leaves everyone to go about their business for the time being. The bar is pretty quiet, a few witches and wizards sitting about reading the morning edition of the Daily Prophet, the wizarding newspaper.
Along with a menu of assorted wizarding treats such as cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties and butterbeer, the Leaky Cauldron also has a smaller menu of normal foods such as meat pies, stews and the like.
Professor McGonagall doesn't appear to be in much of a hurry, so feel free to enjoy the calm, quiet atmosphere of the quaint street-side pub.
A chair pulls itself out for you, as a rag floats over and begins tidying up the table and Tom the barkeeper calls over, "Oi, what'll it be?"" as Professor McGonagall assures you the school will cover the expense.
Muggles- non-magic folk- are going about their business, seemingly oblivious to the fact you and your group all just got out of a triple decker bus moving at the speed of light.
Nevertheless, Professor McGonagall leads you into the shabby tavern, where a tired looking wizard stands behind the bar. All around him, dishes wipe themselves clean, chairs push themselves into place at their tables and trays of drinks float around lazily, dispensing themselves to various tables around the bar.
"We might as well have a spot of breakfast while we're here," Professor McGonagall says, situation herself at the bar as she begins to make small talk with the barkeeper, Tom.
She leaves everyone to go about their business for the time being. The bar is pretty quiet, a few witches and wizards sitting about reading the morning edition of the Daily Prophet, the wizarding newspaper.
Along with a menu of assorted wizarding treats such as cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties and butterbeer, the Leaky Cauldron also has a smaller menu of normal foods such as meat pies, stews and the like.
Professor McGonagall doesn't appear to be in much of a hurry, so feel free to enjoy the calm, quiet atmosphere of the quaint street-side pub.
A chair pulls itself out for you, as a rag floats over and begins tidying up the table and Tom the barkeeper calls over, "Oi, what'll it be?"" as Professor McGonagall assures you the school will cover the expense.
ℋ Diagon Alley
Professor McGonagall leads everyone to a stone wall in the back of the Leaky Cauldron, before she proceeds to whip out her wand. She raps pointedly on a few specific stones and before you know it, the wall in front of you begins to rearrange itself, stone by stone, as it forms an opening.
Before you stretches a long, crowded street packed with wizards and witches and magical folk of all kind. On either side of you, shops and stalls of all kinds stretch along the cobblestone streets that lead along this wondrous settlement, seemingly tucked away in the middle of London.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Professor McGonagall says shortly, stepping through the opening in the wall and onto the cobblestone street. "You'll be able to find all the supplies you need for school. Do go on, I haven't got the time to babysit all of you. If you have any questions, I shall be around. Stay out of trouble, or I'll have you out of here faster than you can say 'transfiguration'."
And with that, Professor McGonagall wanders off, though she's sure to keep an eye in case anyone runs into trouble.
A few places catch your eye immediately, Flourish and Blotts, a wizarding bookstore where you're sure to find all of the books you'll need for school. The Magical Menagerie has been alerted to the fact new students are visiting, so they've made sure to display the finest cats, rats, toads and owls to tempt anyone looking for a companion to accompany them to school.
Diagon Alley is also home to the famous wandmaker, Mr. Ollivander, whom you've had the pleasure of meeting already. His shop can be found here, where you may be lucky enough to witness new students going through the process of getting their own first wands, which is often time consuming and difficult, depending on the person. The shop itself is old and dusty, stacked high with boxes of wands and in a seemingly permanent state of dishevelment, though Mr. Ollivander navigates the space with decisive expertise.
Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor is also a popular destination for the younger crowd, offering an assortment of flavors, both magical and mundane to suit your sweet tooth. Today's special? Strawberry-Peanut butter! Have a seat outdoors and enjoy a nice cool treat while folk bustle about around you, shopping and chatting it up jovially.
Don't forget to swing by Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where she'll see to it that you're fitted with school robes in your size, and of course you can't leave until you've tried on a pointed hat or two. After that, why not head over to Gringott's Bank at the very end of the street and open up an account? You still have some money leftover from what the Ministry of Magic gave you and you have no idea how long you'll be here. It would be a wise decision to ensure any money acquire is safely guarded- no place safer than Gringott's for that!
After a few hours of exploring and shopping, Professor McGonagall rounds everyone up for another quick trip through the Leaky Cauldron, outside where she once again summons the Knight Bus to take everyone back to Hogwarts.
Before you stretches a long, crowded street packed with wizards and witches and magical folk of all kind. On either side of you, shops and stalls of all kinds stretch along the cobblestone streets that lead along this wondrous settlement, seemingly tucked away in the middle of London.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Professor McGonagall says shortly, stepping through the opening in the wall and onto the cobblestone street. "You'll be able to find all the supplies you need for school. Do go on, I haven't got the time to babysit all of you. If you have any questions, I shall be around. Stay out of trouble, or I'll have you out of here faster than you can say 'transfiguration'."
And with that, Professor McGonagall wanders off, though she's sure to keep an eye in case anyone runs into trouble.
A few places catch your eye immediately, Flourish and Blotts, a wizarding bookstore where you're sure to find all of the books you'll need for school. The Magical Menagerie has been alerted to the fact new students are visiting, so they've made sure to display the finest cats, rats, toads and owls to tempt anyone looking for a companion to accompany them to school.
Diagon Alley is also home to the famous wandmaker, Mr. Ollivander, whom you've had the pleasure of meeting already. His shop can be found here, where you may be lucky enough to witness new students going through the process of getting their own first wands, which is often time consuming and difficult, depending on the person. The shop itself is old and dusty, stacked high with boxes of wands and in a seemingly permanent state of dishevelment, though Mr. Ollivander navigates the space with decisive expertise.
Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor is also a popular destination for the younger crowd, offering an assortment of flavors, both magical and mundane to suit your sweet tooth. Today's special? Strawberry-Peanut butter! Have a seat outdoors and enjoy a nice cool treat while folk bustle about around you, shopping and chatting it up jovially.
Don't forget to swing by Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where she'll see to it that you're fitted with school robes in your size, and of course you can't leave until you've tried on a pointed hat or two. After that, why not head over to Gringott's Bank at the very end of the street and open up an account? You still have some money leftover from what the Ministry of Magic gave you and you have no idea how long you'll be here. It would be a wise decision to ensure any money acquire is safely guarded- no place safer than Gringott's for that!
After a few hours of exploring and shopping, Professor McGonagall rounds everyone up for another quick trip through the Leaky Cauldron, outside where she once again summons the Knight Bus to take everyone back to Hogwarts.
ℋ Flying 101
With only a week to the start of term, there's a tense atmosphere looming over the school and Hogsmeade village. No one is sure how the year is going to go, but the Ministry of Magic is breathing down everyone's neck as the date approaches.
Professor Dumbledore doesn't want to start off the year on any sort of negative note, so he's decided to throw together an unofficial first lesson on the grounds of Hogwarts, where attendance is optional but highly encouraged and advertised. He sends out notices to everyone, though just what this lesson will be is kept secret.
On the day of the lesson, you're lead onto and across the Hogwarts grounds, until you reach a large, oval shaped structure with towers built around it, all decorated with different house banners. You're lead through the structure, out onto a large field with three large hoops at both ends, rising high into the sky much like flag poles.
All across the field, broomsticks are lined up ground.
"Welcome!" Dumbledore's voice booms from a podium set up to the side, his wand pressed to his throat, which you realize he's using to amplify his voice so that it can be heard clearly, "to your first flying lesson!"
A witch with close-cropped gray hair and a whistle in her mouth steps forward. "My name is Madam Hooch and I will be your flying instructor. Everyone, find a broom and position yourself next to it!"
Each broom appears to be old and well-used, their twigs bent askew and their wood worn by years of handling, some even have initials carved into them by students gone by. It's clear that these haven't been new for some time.
"Once you've found a broom, at the sound of my whistle I want you to hold your hand out above it and, with feeling, command it up. Nice and loud. Never mind if they're a little stubborn at first, just show the broom that you're boss."
Not every broom responds the same, some are tired and simply appear to want to lay there. Others shoot up with enthusiasm into your hand, while others roll about tiredly. For most, it depends on your fervor. If you really want and mean it, the broom responds in kind.
"Next, you'll mount it and then you'll kick off from the ground. Hover a moment, then touch back down. From there, we'll see how you feel and then perhaps you can try the obstacle course." she gives a wave of her wand and additional hoops and various obstacles appear around the field.
"Three, two, one..."
After practicing the basics for a while, Madam Hooch allows everyone time to free fly and to go through the obstacle course. After a while, when all the initial buzz dies down, she'll wander off and supervise from the side while everyone goes about flying.
Aside from flying, those who are more ground oriented are free to simply watch, or sit in the shade and take a moment to enjoy the scenery. Perhaps they'll wander away from the flying lesson and over to the great lake surrounding Hogwarts castle, where the tentacle of a giant squid can be seen occasionally poking out from below the surface, trying to swipe at any bird that makes the mistake of flying too low.
Professor Dumbledore doesn't want to start off the year on any sort of negative note, so he's decided to throw together an unofficial first lesson on the grounds of Hogwarts, where attendance is optional but highly encouraged and advertised. He sends out notices to everyone, though just what this lesson will be is kept secret.
On the day of the lesson, you're lead onto and across the Hogwarts grounds, until you reach a large, oval shaped structure with towers built around it, all decorated with different house banners. You're lead through the structure, out onto a large field with three large hoops at both ends, rising high into the sky much like flag poles.
All across the field, broomsticks are lined up ground.
"Welcome!" Dumbledore's voice booms from a podium set up to the side, his wand pressed to his throat, which you realize he's using to amplify his voice so that it can be heard clearly, "to your first flying lesson!"
A witch with close-cropped gray hair and a whistle in her mouth steps forward. "My name is Madam Hooch and I will be your flying instructor. Everyone, find a broom and position yourself next to it!"
Each broom appears to be old and well-used, their twigs bent askew and their wood worn by years of handling, some even have initials carved into them by students gone by. It's clear that these haven't been new for some time.
"Once you've found a broom, at the sound of my whistle I want you to hold your hand out above it and, with feeling, command it up. Nice and loud. Never mind if they're a little stubborn at first, just show the broom that you're boss."
Not every broom responds the same, some are tired and simply appear to want to lay there. Others shoot up with enthusiasm into your hand, while others roll about tiredly. For most, it depends on your fervor. If you really want and mean it, the broom responds in kind.
"Next, you'll mount it and then you'll kick off from the ground. Hover a moment, then touch back down. From there, we'll see how you feel and then perhaps you can try the obstacle course." she gives a wave of her wand and additional hoops and various obstacles appear around the field.
"Three, two, one..."
After practicing the basics for a while, Madam Hooch allows everyone time to free fly and to go through the obstacle course. After a while, when all the initial buzz dies down, she'll wander off and supervise from the side while everyone goes about flying.
Aside from flying, those who are more ground oriented are free to simply watch, or sit in the shade and take a moment to enjoy the scenery. Perhaps they'll wander away from the flying lesson and over to the great lake surrounding Hogwarts castle, where the tentacle of a giant squid can be seen occasionally poking out from below the surface, trying to swipe at any bird that makes the mistake of flying too low.
Crowley ⛧ Good Omens (TV)
a. The Knight Bus
[ Crowley had never really been partial to either knights (excluding that time in the late tenth century, but Aziraphale was always the exception to any of his rules), nor public transport. He'd taken the tube once.
He wouldn't again.
But he was quite enjoying the Knight Bus. Probably one in the minority there, if the sickly green hue of many of his compatriots were any indication.
But really, what was the fuss? The interior was luxurious (the tacky chandelier, he thought, was a particularly nice touch), and doing a hundred and five in central London really wasn't all that big of a deal; he did it all the time in the Bentley.
In fact, the Knight Bus seemed to operate on almost exactly the same rules as his car, weaving through the narrow gaps between vehicles and always being exactly where the traffic wasn't.
He flashes a grin to his neighbour, deciding to do the most irritating thing possible on a ride like this; start up small talk. ]
So, the eighties, eh? Good time for music - reckon they'll let us out the little magical bubble world to catch a concert or two...? Maybe lob a pie in old Thatcher's face?
b. The Leaky Cauldron
[ It's not even gone noon, but Crowley, not a stranger to being daydrunk and a Bad Influence on Impressionable Minds, is eyeballing the rather impressive collection of beverages on display. He's sure magic can only improve liquor.
...Right? ]
Let me guess... Fire Whiskey actually makes you breathe fire...? Sounds novel.
c. Madame Malkin's
[ Crowley is not used to buying clothes. Oh, he is certainly a fan of high fashion and and the rampant, exorbitant consumerism surrounding it, having a number of infernal commendations from Down Below for what was only tangential involvement on his part in the creation of such. But he's never actually partaken. He'd just will his garments into existence, without having to bother with the tedium of getting fitted by a tailor.
And really, he'd be fine as-is on the streets of London despite technically being a good three and a half decades ahead of the curve. But men's fashion hadn't changed all that drastically since the seventies (and really, it had been going at a snail's pace since the Regency era. Say what you please about the French courts of the 18th century, the clothing was anything but dull.)
Still, skinny jeans and blazers are not the look du jour of wizards, and Crowley is eager to fit in as quickly as possible. After all, he can't simply will himself out the memories of humans. Next best thing to achieving the anonymity he's grown so used to is to blend in as seamlessly as possible with the humans he'll be spending the foreseeable future with.
As of right now, he's currently parked himself in front of a mirror, trying on a not-insignificant number of hats. Nothing like indulging in a bit of Vanity to make this less tedious.
...And perhaps irritating the nearest customer with inane conversation. ]
Which one d'you reckon?
[ He asks, brandishing two near identical hats. ]
I like the little feather flourish on this one, but I can't help but think it makes my head look a bit bulbous. This one's much sleeker, but it seems a bit dull.
II. School Grounds
a. Flying Lessons
[ Crowley, Fallen as he may be, is no stranger to flying. His wings did not burn in the sulfur pits with the rest of him, and remain functional and well-groomed to this very day. He's even taken to the skies in the past decade, though such things have become much harder with all the planes and helicopters and drones able to spot him.
...And once upon a time before time, he'd moved at speeds incomprehensible to humans through the void of space, zipping through wormholes and shaping stars and nebulae with a cadre of other angels.
That is to say, Crowley shouldn't be eyeballing the broom with the sort of look he reserved for the houseplants that had the nerve to start shedding leaves on the good carpet. It's a haughty look, his upper lip curled in the sort of disgust that suggests a future trip down the garbage disposal. Or in the broom's case, the nearest woodchipper.
So, when confronted with less than ideal circumstances, Crowley does what he always does in this sort of situation; grouse about it. ]
You'd think with all the jumped-up trust-fund students, they could afford brooms that don't look like they're going to leave splinters in the delicates. Bugger me sideways, this thing is in a state.
b. The Grounds
[ Crowley loves a good wander, even if his backside's gone a bit numb from the flying lesson. Brooms, really. Worse than horses and he'd never got the knack for those either.
The grounds truly are lovely. Green and gorgeous, with the rugged highland terrain all around. They must be well and truly in the middle of Nowhere, Scotland, because even he's having trouble spotting anything like a familiar landmark in the surrounds. And he knows Scotland very well - done some of his best temptations here over the last thousand years.
Eventually he approaches the edge of the Forbidden Forest. There is something to be said about Crowley and any sort of tree with a big 'Forbidden' sign tacked onto it. A whole forest can hardly help but draw his interest like a moth to the flame. ]
a
Whose face?
⟪ She'll pass by his mention of music for now – bards are of no interest to her. She even offers him the benefit of a glance, before she fixes her eyes straight to the nearest window again, as if that helps curb the bus' side effects. ⟫
no subject
Crimes against the laws of physics are rather Crowley's cup of tea. ]
Not a native then...? Should've guessed. Lovely dress, very tenth century haute couture.
[ His French accent is dreadful. Not that it needs to be, he speaks the language just fine, albeit about two hundred years out-of-date. Crowley is just a born menace. ]
Thatcher's the prime minister - or at least she was in my world. Different version of Earth, anything's possible. The American Revolution could've gone very differently and the UK's a territory of the States now for all I know. Anyway, she was a very unpleasant old scab.
no subject
Third century.
⟪ Why she bothers with the correction, she can't say – it dawns on her, as he speaks of America and the You Kay and States, that they might not share a world at all. Never mind those words in a strange language she cannot even begin to place. Lovely. ⟫
You hail from this world, but a later point in time, I take it. ⟪ That's good. Useful. ⟫ And your name is –?
no subject
[ Crowley agrees with a slight arch of his brow. So she was from a completely different world entirely, not just another Earth from an earlier time. ]
And yeah. Different version of this one and about thirty-five years on -
[ Which would, if he were a human of comparable age to his corporation's appearance, put him around twelve or thirteen at the time. Probably not an age where one gives much care to who is or isn't prime minister yet. Oops. ]
- not to mention mine doesn't have a secret wizarding world of occult things.
[ He would know, being occult things and all. ]
So, I dunno what else is different yet. And it's Crowley. Nice to meet you...?