The Confundus Conspiracy; or, Youngblood Circle [entries|friends|calendar]
The Confundus Conspiracy; or, Youngblood Circle

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Seekers of the Djinn... [10 Apr 2013|05:41pm]
[ mood | spooky ]

For a Djinn-Seeker, the shadows hold too much light. They seek the power that is truly Dark, but through which they can learn to see. They seek the power of the Gloom, the power of black flame, the power it takes eight men to hold down. Among the Magical and Muggle alike, seeking the Djinn is never advised, and strongly discouraged. Why else would a Dark wizard seek to know them? And there is no need of a leader among devotees of the Djinn. Hades take the likes of Lord Voldemort, and all who would succeed him. What use are Dark Lords when you bargain for your own Djinn Alliance?

[TO BE CONTINUED...]

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OWL: Tonks to Marja Karppinen, Karelia Magical Academy (Warded Appropriately) [08 Jun 2012|06:52pm]
[ mood | energetic ]

Wotcher, Maaski!!

I trust you've made it out to Youngblood in one piece. I've been a spot delayed here for a while.

Did you hear what happened at the group spellsinging session at your home base? It sounds like it was a right shocker! Also, new intelligence on Djinn Seekers and how they go about suicide bombings without actually...well, committing suicide. Too bad they don't think to off themselves first.

Anyway, just about packed and set to apparate! Give lots of love and kisses to Jovana, Lule and that lot till I get there...


Tonks

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On the Way Home from the Auror Division... [14 Apr 2009|06:39pm]
[ mood | lonely ]
[ music | Junior Suite - by Vanessa Paradis ]

Time to go, time to bloody pack for the Youngblood summit, time to owl Moody and Hermione... Tonks was packing it in for her last day at the office before apparating to Youngblood Circle. She had no intention of walking around an American tube station looking for the right closet to sneak into for the portal. But first, before the packing, and the owls, and settling Gabija into the guesthouse with her babysitter over the weekend...there was the little jaunt down to the dungeons, for more of the balancing potion. And more frustration and angst and loneliness to go with it.

There was no one present, for some reason, in Snape's laboratory when she got there, after nearly tripping over a couple of gossipy house-elves who were sweeping stairs in between chapters of their life stories. All she found on his work table was a vial of the balancing potion, with a note in his familiar calligraphy:

Miss Tonks:

Due to unforeseen family issues, I am not able to see you in person this evening. I trust that this vial is sufficient to see you through at least a week's normal dosage. Nonetheless, I strongly recommend an in-person consultation as soon as convenient upon your return.

My family and I extend our best for a successful international summit. If you haven't heard already, a bombing plot with possible Djinn-Seeker connections was recently foiled in the Muggle Northwestern United States, in Portland I believe. It appears that Djinn-Seekers and their Muggle 'jihadists' are recruiting among the American and European citizenry, as I expect you will hear in greater detail during the summit.

In any case, owl my office upon your return to arrange a consultation, and inform me of any changes in your condition re: psychic scars.

Severus Potter-Snape


Tonks pocketed both the vial and the note with a deep sigh mixing frustration and relief at not seeing the Potions Master on that particular occasion, when so much needed to be done in a short time. However, as she exited the Dungeons and started home, a strange wish kept sneaking into her consciousness: If only polyamory was more accepted in the Magical West...Holy Morgana, what am I thinking?! Well, fuck, yes...if only it was. So there!

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Well, We've Done It Now...!! [28 Dec 2008|07:54pm]
[ mood | accomplished ]
[ music | Ranarim ]

Transferred the Journal of The Confundus Conspiracy over here to InsaneJournal, that is, at long last! You see, we really had no choice. GreatestJournal has pretty much bitten the Cyberdust; and since we have decided, over the course of the Winter Holidays, to continue the story, there was really no alternative to seeking out a new journal server. Besides, we have a bunch of friends and fellow fanfic writers who have already taken the IJ plunge; so we may be running into quite a few familiar faces around here.

As you know, we are using a number of the lovely J.K. Rowling's characters from the Harry Potter novels here; hence, this whole project is purely for fun; we cannot and will not make one thin sickle from any of our writings here. We haven't found out yet whether or not IJ allows us to monetize this blog with QAds. In addition to the canon HP characters, however, we have created a number of original characters whom we originally used to fill out our role in the old RPG (of which this story is the only spinoff we know about). These characters are of varied nationalities, including Iraqi, Macedonian, Saami, American and Finnish. We hope you all enjoy them, and don't think them too Mary-Sueish. Userpics will be added shortly (probably after we get home and fish them out of our laptop...LOL)

In the story itself, we last saw Jovana, Finola, Marja, Lule and Ghazala settling into their hotels at Youngblood Circle, the Magical Divsion of Washington, DC, following a flyover in the Night Ship, an Elizabethan-looking flying ship piloted by the ghost of Grace O'Malley (Gráinne Ní Mháille), who still speaks no English (hence, the Irish Aurors Roisin and Nuala had to come along to translate). They are part of an international Magical summit being convened to address the encroachments of Death Eaters into international Muggle politics, especially in the Middle East, where a Dark Magical movement known as the Djinn-Seekers (the Death Eaters of the Middle East, more or less) are gathering strength. It is believed that western Death Eaters have infiltrated both the British and American Muggle governments, seeking both power and influence in international events, while also allegedly forming alliances with Djinn-Seekers across Persia and the Arab countries. Meanwhile, back home in Scotland, Tonks, Alastor Moody, Hestia Jones and Hermione Granger-Weasley are preparing to join Jovana and friends in Youngblood Circle. Tonks, however, is suffering lasting effects of a psychic scar of a couple of years back, as well as dealing with unresolved feelings for an unattainable object of affection--not to mention the question of where she will board Gabija the ferret while she's off across the pond...



--Dupont Circle from the air; Muggle Washington, DC. The entry to Youngblood Circle is through an unused maintenance storage area in the Dupont Circle Metro station.

*****
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OWL: To Minister McGonagall (warded for High Confidentiality) [12 Jan 2008|06:56pm]
[ mood | moody ]

Minerva:

I expect you've heard by now of the assassination of the former Muggle Prime Minister of Pakistan, Madam Benazir Bhutto. Very sad, though not surprising. Being that the evidence the assassin left behind, I have a definite suspicion that said assassin was a Djinn-Seeker--perhaps more than one.

I am still slated to attend the summit at Youngblood Circle this coming Monday, unless you need me on an urgent matter. And thank you once again for the lovely New Year's dinner. Ron is still recovering, I believe. He hasn't eaten that much at once since our wedding reception, I'm afraid...

In any case, I will be in touch, here and in D.C. I'm always reachable by owl as always.


--Hermione Granger-Weasley
Deputy Minister for Magic

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OWL: To Senior Auror Tonks (Warded for Confidentiality) [24 Mar 2007|07:00pm]
[ mood | well-traveled ]

Madame Jovana Sandansky, Skopje Magical College.
Writing from Youngblood Circle, Magical Washington, D.C.

Tonks, my dear:

Both our group on the Night Ship, and Madame Al-Halim's Iraqi contingent, are now safely settled in here in Youngblood Circle! It's rather wet and cold here, much as it is in Scotland where you are. However, the contraband hashish Ghazala's group managed to smuggle in is quite exquisite, and nearly makes up for the weather.

Tonks, I do hope your contingent will arrive timely; much is on the table for us all to discuss. Death-Eaters have thoroughly infiltrated insurgent groups in Muggle Iraq, and they are spreading into Iran, providing magical materials as well as intelligence to warlords and Al-Qaeda higher-ups, at the same time as they are urging on the U.S. and British administrations to remain bogged down in their nightmare scenario. Meanwhile, Ghazala is quite impatient to turn the ghosts of Iraqi dead loose as a pox on both their houses, if you know what I mean.

In any case, my dear, if your contingent can arrive any earlier than Monday next, that would be splendid. But please to try to arrive on your scheduled date, at the very least. And you do have comfortable lodgings booked here, do you not; or do you need assistance with those details?

All the best, Song-Sister, and to your friends as well...

--Jovana

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OWL: to Madame Jovana Sandansky (Warded for Confidentiality) [27 Nov 2006|07:54pm]
[ mood | busy ]

Madame Jovana:

Salaam Aleykhum and Blessed Be! My contingent and I have arrived safely in Youngblood Circle, through a rather circuitous route involving the New England Bureau near Hartford, Connecticut; an erroneous detour in Muggle Kansas City, Missouri; and finally, the Union Station in Muggle Washington, whence we finally were directed to the connection entry point (Dupont Circle, where all the good gay Muggle bookstores are). We are looking forward to meeting with your contingent and the British one led by the newlywed Deputy Minister, Hermione Granger-Weasley.

I trust that you have arrived at Youngblood Circle, with all your contingent, safe and sound? Please respond quickly, as soon as this owl arrives in your hand, and perhaps we can have a nice dinner. Remember, of course, that some of my party are dual-faith Magical and Muslim, and thus prefer to avoid such things as pork, alcohol and non-Kosher gelatin. Aside from that, we're all set. Needless to say, much discussion and cordial debate is to follow.

Yours most thankfully,

Ghazala Al-Halim
Chief Liaison, Iraqi Magical Contingent

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The Divination Mistress: at Youngblood Circle, Magical D.C. [21 Jul 2006|07:04pm]
[ mood | sleepy ]
[ music | Who Will Buy? - from Oliver! The Original Soundtrack ]

"Well, dayumm...", grumbled Finola Cumbow, removing first her right shoe, then her left, looking up and down at the accumulations of dirt on the soles. It was about what she'd anticipated finding: much of the residue had escaped closer to the heels, with good-sized chunks settling in near the middle, and the bulk of the dirt grading to a high concentration nearer the toes. The right shoe indicated what sort of muck would occupy one's outer life; the left one, one's inner life. And the patterns of dirt grinding into the grooves indicated that a good deal of stress was coming up in the future, in both the inner and outer worlds of Finola's life.

She sighed and gave Madame Sandansky a tired gaze across the lounge of their hotel in Youngblood Circle. "Jovana, honey, you had to talk me into this conference with the Eye-raqi contingent, now didn't you?" she groused. She pointed to the upturned soles of her shoes. "Sez here, no sooner did I git into D.C., along comes a bunch of shit about to happen in the very near future, as in, the next couple weeks or so. Like I didn't git enough shit happenin' at the frickin' Bureau--" Finola Cumbow, Divination Mistress extraordinaire, who could read patterns of the world in practically every divination tactic known to Wizardkind at the tender age of 35, was a diplomatic liaison with the Southeastern Bureau of Magic. The British had their Ministry for Magic, and the Americans had regional Bureaus. And hell if Miss Cumbow didn't have communication issues every time she arrived at the nation's capitol. She'd been born in East Tennessee, but raised in West Tennessee, and folks there spoke a slightly different tongue than folks in Youngblood Circle, by and large.

Jovana Sandansky laughed, and handed the waterpipe back to Finola. "My dear, smoke some more peppermint and chamomile; you don't want your blood pressure rising already, at your age", she advised. "Yes, we will be discussing Death-Eaters, traveling ghosts, blood-settling, and the Middle Eastern wars; but we needn't feel obligated to solve all the world's problems at once. Perhaps, after dinner with Madame Al-Halim and her party, you might do a reading for us on which dragon, figuratively speaking, we should do battle with first?"

Finola leaned her chair back further with a giggle of fatigue, her long chestnut-brown hair beginning to drape over the arms. Her violet eyes tried to do their usual dance among friends, but Finola was beginning to have trouble keeping them open. "Peppermint and chamomile?" she echoed her Macedonian friend. "Goddamn, Jovana, dontcha have an ounce of hash with a pinch o' ginseng for effect? If you're gonna go to the trouble to vape stuff, at least sneak somethin' yummy into the country in yer backpack." She sat upright again, and tried to get a little bit serious. "Where's your girls from Europe, Jovana? And all them others from the Night Ship? Muggle Secret Service shoot 'em down or something?"

Jovana looked around the lounge; so far, no sign of Marja, Lule, or any owls from the Night Ship crew. "Come to think of it, I'm not sure, Finola. They said something about going out for a walk; I'm not sure why they took their instrument cases with them when they left. Now that you mention the Night Ship, though, I think our first item of business--when Madame Ghazala arrives--might be siphoning off energy from our power-glutted Muggle government buildings. Have you been anywhere near the White House since you got here, my dear? You can feel the power activity radiating off of that structure like a nuclear reactor on the verge of a meltdown!"

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OOC: Enough of the Hiatus!! [20 Jun 2006|07:31pm]
[ mood | frustrated ]

Sorry, folks, it's been ages since the story below has been updated! But it will happen, gobfuckit!! Youngblood Circle still awaits us, as well as the introduction of Finola Cumbow, and the Iraqi Magical delegation led by one Madame Ghazala Al-Halim. And the Night Ship is still prowling all over Muggle D.C., even in restricted airspace!!

Meanwhile, here is the text of the Winter Vow Release which I and my former Winter Vow partner (and still friend/lover) used to release each other from our Winter Vow of October 2005-March 2006:

"Beloved, my friend, my partner, I release you from the vow we have shared--with no malice in my heart, but only love, respect and affection. We are released for this time as we have agreed; and I hope to bond with you again in the future. We have completed a successful Winter Vow, and we are released as agreed at dawn of this First Day of Spring. Go in peace, joy and courage; and be assured that my love and care go with you, and that I hold you in my heart now and always."

*****
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In Parliament After Hours: Tonks and Company in Muggle London... [28 Feb 2006|03:45pm]
[ mood | cold ]
[ music | I Was Watching You - by Roseanne Cash ]

I will never fucking learn, Tonks told herself as she steered her newest Champion east on the flight down the river. Never eat sodding onion rings before a flyover. I've known since first year at Hogwarts that they go right through me. And good fucking British luck finding a WC open at this time of night! She gritted her teeth and tried by sheer force of will to keep her bowels in check. Mind over matter, or some such. Not exactly the most pleasant flyover she'd ever done, even allowing for the oppressive chill in the air.

Disillusioned, Tonks was joined on this trip by Hestia Jones and her squadron of Junior Aurors. They were on night-shift flyovers and inside inspections of Muggle government buildings in London, including Parliament and the High Court. The Prime Minister was vaguely aware of these infiltrations, having received a memo by owl post from Minister McGonagall some five months before; whether he remembered anything of it or not was questionable. Death-Eaters were said to be infiltrating the British government through blending into Muggle political circles and being appointed to posts as high-ranking as possible. The same thing was rumoured to be occurring in the United States government as well, the British and European baddies likely assuming that the current U.S. President wouldn't know a "Death-Eater" from Darth Vader. Death-Eaters gravitated toward centers of power like moths to a street lamp; and since the death of Lord Voldemort and subsequent fall of Bellatrix Black Lestrange (my Auntie Bella, would-be Dark Lady of Wizarding Britain, as Jovana once called her; well, so much for the Madwoman in the Manor...), they'd been left without a firm candidate for designated leader. Now, apparently swallowing their Muggle-hating pride, they were attempting to expand their influence into Muggle Europe through assimilation and infiltration into government ministries in that world.

And so Tonks, Hestia, Corvus Sawney, Jeri Khan-Creevey, Marcelene Thomas and Nathan Todd had been sent out with magical night-vision and sensing equipment geared for Dark Energy and Magical Signatures, on night-time flyovers identical to the ones they'd undertaken while Bellatrix had been still at large. An Auror's work is never done, even when the latest Dark-Powered threat seems to have been overcome.

The gothic spires of Parliament were coming up immediately on their right. First order of business: Tonks to apparate into a loo before something nasty had to be Scourgified.

Tonks wondered how Jovana and her lot were doing with their flyovers in Muggle Washington on the Night Ship. She hoped for their sakes that the old craft had a loo on board.

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Meanwhile, back at the Hogwarts Ministry Wing... [09 Feb 2006|06:22pm]
[ mood | restless ]
[ music | A Love That Will Never Grow Old - by Emmylou Harris ]

It really wasn't that much different from her days as co-Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration at the School, not significantly. Now Minister for Magic of Wizarding Britain, Minerva McGonagall was still occupying a classically-decorated office at Hogwarts, pestered night and day by owls from foreign dignitaries, and refereeing debates and conflicts by former students now allegedly occupying Ministry positions. Be grateful for the continuity, I suppose, she told herself. I could be a retired old pensioner, slowly going mad in a tiny flat for want of something to do.

The recent flurry of activity, however, was beginning to affect her blood pressure, and causing her to send either up to Madame Marchbanks or down to Severus for juniper-and-parsley tincture. She was all in a worry trying to unravel the news and rumours of Death-Eaters infiltrating Muggle governments, attempts at Blood-Settling in the Middle East, and now this business of Ghosts in Washington, D.C. And she was beginning to get a nagging hunch that they might all be connected somehow.

All of which, she felt, should be brought up in the upcoming Ministry-wide meeting, of which she was writing to her recently-wed Deputy Minister:

Hermione:

There's been more news of Death-Eaters operating in the States, especially within the Muggle Defense Department and their Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). As we suspected, without a designated leader, at-large Death-Eaters will gravitate to where there is power to be had, notwithstanding their evident distate for coexisting with Muggle society.

Likewise, there have been more bizarre tales of ghost activity and attempts at Blood-Settling in the Middle East. No less than a delegation from Wizarding Uruq (Iraq), led by their own Deputy Minister, Madame Ghazala Al-Halim, has arrived in Youngblood Circle. Rumour has it that the purpose of their visit has something to do with Blood-Settling, but that has not been confirmed.

In any case, Hermione, our next Ministry-wide Council meeting will be held Monday next, just after the lunch hour, and is expected to take up most of the afternoon. The Auror Division, those not on field duty, are also expected to attend. Please owl me back to confirm your attendance, or inform me if extenuating circumstances will prevent your attendance.

Minerva McGonagall


"Off with you, then", she told her owl, after slipping her a few extra treats. The poor little pygmy, like Minerva herself, also was beginning to look rather thinly-spread.
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The Night Ship: Over the Nation's Capitol... [20 Jan 2006|03:34pm]
[ mood | conspiratorial ]
[ music | Something about a 'Mr. Jones' by Bob Dylan ]

It was down near freezing in Muggle Washington, D.C., city of many facets and allegedly Masonic layout. Aircraft coming into Reagan International were quickly afflicted with fogged windows edged with ice crystals. Buses and underground light rail lines had their indoor heating on nonstop, and special vans were picking up homeless people to transport them to emergency shelters in theater auditoriums and church basements. And a Disillusioned Elizabethan two-masted ship was gliding over the White House, in highly restricted airspace.

If the Night Ship was being picked up on anyone's radar, nothing of it could be seen overhead as it blended perfectly into the foggy evening sky, even as streams of mist bounced off its sides and threatened to outline it against the clouds. Even the lanterns and floating candles in its cabins could not be detected to the naked Muggle eye.

On board were witches and spellsingers Jovana Sandansky of Macedonia, Lule Gierran of Norwegian Sapmi, and Marja Karppinen of eastern Finland. With them were two young Irish Aurors sent along by their mutual friend, Nymphadora Tonks (that's just "Tonks" to you), also Senior Auror and leader of the Irish girls' squadron at the Aurors' Office in the Ministry Wing at Hogwarts Castle. Nuala Brennan and Roisín Ní hAnluain were their names; and besides analysing the power repositories of various Muggle Government buildings, their primary duty on the Night Ship was to translate between the spellsingers and the Night Ship's captain.

Said captain, you see, was no less a person than the ghost of Irish pirate and clan chieftain Grace O'Malley, a notorious historical figure from Elizabethan times, who even now spoke not a word of English. All her speech was in a mixture of early modern Irish, Latin and Spanish; and she was in a chronic bother over Nuala and Roisín conversing mainly in the Saxon's speech, and the fact that the other witches' command of Latin was limited to the words of spells and hexes.

The Night Ship Proceeds... )

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OOC: Youngblood Circle' is Coming Soon!! [16 Jan 2006|03:29pm]
[ mood | exuberant ]
[ music | River - by Joni Mitchell ]

Tonks here, friends. The tale of Youngblood Circle is on the way, I promise you. Our writer is getting ready for some serious international travel in the spring; but plot outlines are well underway.

Our first scene will be in the skies over Muggle D.C. in the States. The Disillusioned Night Ship is keeping an eye on the White House, the U.S. Capitol, and other repositories of way-too-much power. The power that the U.S. citizens give to their government in trust and that (if enough of them catch on shamanically) they can also take back and siphon off. Yes, you read that correctly. The power is of the people, and they can take it back.

And did I mention that Death-Eaters, with or without a designated leader, tend to be attracted to repositories of power...?

Holy fucking Morgana.

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Skopje Magical College: Christmas Eve among Spellsingers [24 Dec 2005|03:36pm]
[ mood | jubilant ]
[ music | Gaudete - by Steeleye Span ]

The bonfires were lit on the high places all over Magical Europe: each one could be seen by those gathered at the previous Fire Loft, and by those gathered at the next. The Antrim coast Fire Loft could be seen by witches and wizards in the Hebrides; the Jersey fire could be seen across the Channel in France. The dances and feasting were held around each loft, or inside nearby in case of inclement weather. Honey mead and hot whiskey and hot cider were passed around by families and friends in their warmest dress robes; circle dances were breaking out everywhere, indoors and out; and Divination masters and mistresses were taking queries for readings on the upcoming New Year.

Midwinter at Skopje Magical College in northern Macedonia found Madame Jovana Sandansky at the center of a cyclone of activity around her own Fire Loft. New arrivals and owls telling of new arrivals were everywhere; the flesh of boar, pheasant and turkey was roasting on indoor fires; baked and fresh fruits were being passed around; and house elves were bringing in one course of the feast long before previous ones had been polished off. It was sheer madness, but happy madness all the same. Floating candles mingled with rotating Japanese lanterns over the heads of the celebrants. Circle dances for children and adults galloped around and atop tables. Lovers were taking and renewing Winter Vows and year-and-a-day betrothals in the feasting hall, meditation rooms and the corridors outside the ritual room. In and out went the people watching the outdoor Fire Loft, sometimes requesting more wood and tinder fuel, sometimes marshalling children indoors and out to observe their bonfire's progress and look out over the lake to the nearest Fire Loft to this one. The energy was unbelievable, and would only grow more impassioned as night fell.

Just before the call came for dinner, Jovana allowed herself to be drawn into a songspell dance in honour of the season. The fortyish spellsinger was pulled into the circle by her friends Lule and Ailu Gierran; drums and bouzoukis began playing, and the lead singer began verses of a Macedonian song in honour of Ama Marija (the Virgin Mary), the great mystic and visionary of ancient Israel:

The young girl danced, and the green touched her;
The vision of angels overtook her sight.
No cave nor dream she needed to see clearly,
Ama, Amonah, Marija, Doimater.

Marija, only just come of age,
She, the avatar of her nomad people,
She who achieved mystical union with the Creator,
Ama, Amonah, Marija, Doimater.

Star of the Sea they call her,
As they called Aphrodite before her,
Queen of Heaven, as Asherah, as Inanna,
Ama, Amonah, Marija, Doimater.

The vision was a fright and confusing;
But the angels conveyed blessing and love,
And her ecstasy brought healing to the people.
Ama, Amonah, Marija, Doimater.

Today Marija dances among the poor:
The frightened ones of Iraq, of Palestine,
The Afghans under heavy siege,
The poor of America's Gulf and cities.

Tonight her child is born again
In the slums of London and Hong Kong,
In the refugee camps throughout the world:
Ama, Amonah, Marija, Doimater.

Maidens of the poor, dance with Marija;
Follow her lead into powerful visions.
You are chosen thus, not the gold-ridden mighty.
Ama, Amonah, Marija, Doimater.


A toast rose up among the feastgoers, that all would go well when Jovana Sandansky of Skopje left for America; and that feasting would yet come to those who had no food, and that the innocent dead of the wars and storms would find their blood settled and their souls at last in peace.

Much Merriment of the Season to All...from the witches and wizards of Skopje Magical College, Sapmi Witchcraft and Wizarding Academy, Ilmatar Magical Academy, and the Karelia Songspell Collective!!

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The Confundus Board: A Meeting of Harry Potter Muse Entities [22 Dec 2005|03:26pm]
[ mood | conspiratorial ]
[ music | Men of No Conscience - by Tommy Makem ]

A meeting of Muse Entities was recently called in the Aurors' conference room in the Hogwarts Ministry Wing. Free-agent Muse Entities were present, along with all Senior and Junior Aurors, save for the Shacklebolt Squadron, who were providing security for Quidditch World Cup tryouts a hundred kilometres south of Hogsmeade.

Minerva McGonagall, still serving as Minister for Magic, produced the Confundus Board and laid it out on the conference table for everyone's perusal. "As you can see", she pointed out, "The Board is still performing its original functions of cutting off Muse Support ties and confunding plotlines. However, new developments include the random occlusion between journals, and random confunding of relationships between Unsupported characters; both of these randomising developments are set to reload every eighteen to thirty hours. The time interval, of course, also changes at random."

The Weasley twins separated and went to eye the Board from opposite sides of the table. "Blimey", Fred breathed. "It looks like an Ouija board with clothespegs." Indeed, this wooden creation did have a rather arcane appearance. It was rectangular in shape, but the functional part was contained within a circle which took up most of the Board's space. Esoteric symbols associated with Eris Discordia, the classical Goddess of discord and confusion, lined the circle's perimeter.

Two circles formed by pegs with small side handles lay within the circled space. The inner circle consisted of some twenty pegs, connected not only by the perfect circle shape they formed, but also by the bonds of strings stretched among them. Outside this circle was a broader, more sparsely formed circle of nine or ten pegs whose string bonds kept separating and reconnecting elsewhere; their former ties to the inner circle's pegs had all been severed. At random time intervals, a kind of muddling happened in the very centre of the circle, and ties among the inner pegs became confused, twisted and raveled, seemingly at random. "Crumbs. Just imagine taking bets on how the thing would muck itself up next", George Weasley mused from his end of the table.

"Right then", Tonks slipped in next to Fred. "Has anyone noted the effects this thing is having?"

"Oh, my spies are everywhere, not to worry", laughed her colleague and fellow Senior Auror, Hestia Jones. "And there is plenty of confusion to be seen and heard in our old arena, you can bet good money on that."

"So, are there any questions from anyone, on the Board itself, or on other actions taken by our fellow Muse Entities?" McGonagall inquired from the head of the table. "If not, now is the time to take stock of yourselves and your fellow Muses in this realm. Christmas Week is a holiday, both for Hogwarts students and staff, and for all Ministry staff and officials. After that, however, it will be high time to begin our work investigating the current political situation in the Muggle world, and for Tonks, Alastor Moody and several more of our friends and colleagues to set out for Youngblood Circle in magical Washington, D.C. Karmic justice must be done, and the time has come for Muggle politicians to be haunted by the ghosts of their past wrongdoings--both literally, and figuratively."

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And now, a word from Wizarding Britain's Deputy Minister in Exile... [14 Dec 2005|03:14pm]
[ mood | pensive ]
[ music | Hallelujah (Leonard Cohen) - by Rufus Wainwright ]

Hello once again! I am Deputy Minister Hermione Granger-Weasley, the Muse of hermionedhr, formerly of the RPG Dark Hope Rising, now known as new_hope. This is the first I've surfaced since Ron and I tied the knot and headed off across the lake for our honeymoon on the west coast of the Black Sea (which is truly spectacular this time of year). I've been in exile (in my own hometown!), along with Tonks of tonks_dhr and our shared writer ever since then. Thank Merlin we finally have a new haven in which to express ourselves and come up with new stories! By the way, never mind Tonks' remark below about us roleplaying Madonna and Shakira; neither of us is exactly pop-star material.

Here is what happened at the wedding after our writer was ousted: Ron and I didn't find out until after the fact that Harry's son was kidnapped during the ceremony. For some reason, we were deliberately kept in the dark about this, though we certainly would have been deeply concerned about this had we known. We and the three spellsingers were shunted off to the boat and returned to our guesthouse across the lake well after midnight, the three ladies singing once again in Macedonian, or the Finnish Saami dialect, or some such; I couldn't understand a word of it in any case. It was lively and melodic, and had a rhythm pattern well outside our usual Western 4/4 time signature. Then, not long after we set off, our Aurors' Honour Guard came to the edge of the lake, bowed to the guests, and took off on their brooms one at a time, in a hard-right ceremonial formation. All the prior details of the ceremony can be found here. I certainly hope everything has turned out all right for everyone back at the larger story. Our writer posted my wedding vows at the hermionedhr User Info page. I still have no idea what became of Ron's.

Anyway, believe it or not, I survived being married! I'm not sure I ever felt that stressed even during the Second War! And now, since the remaining Muse Entities of our former RPG have also decided to be free agents, new challenges lie ahead. Don't they always? Not only is there the Confundus Board to monitor (more on that later); we are faced with a major investigation of rumoured Death-Eater influence in Muggle Middle Eastern politics, as well as the alleged effects of Unsettled Blood in that region's combat zones! Besides all that, the word is that much of our next story will take place in Washington, D.C., in the Magical zone known as Youngblood Circle. Youngblood Circle is sort of Washington's answer to Diagon Alley in London; and, it is said, accessed through a secret portal in one of their underground train stations. So stay tuned, and look out for thousands of Iraqi ghosts (of war dead) converging on the American seats of power!

OOPS...as Hagrid likes to say, I really should not have mentioned that...

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Villains! Dissemble no more! [12 Dec 2005|03:01pm]
[ mood | exultant ]
[ music | Mothers, Daughters, Wives - by Judy Small ]

All right, Edgar Allen Poe said that, not I. But he has a point there. May as well come out into the open about the real purpose of this journal (well, one of them, anyway): we, tonks_dhr and hermionedhr are two HP Muse Entities in exile, along with the Muggle shaman/writer/ roleplayer/folksinger, virgofolkie, who was roleplaying us for a number of months in this waning year!

This is Tonks, or tonks_dhr speaking. Wotcher to all watchers! Since we are now free agents in exile, we need a new place to hang out and come up with new stories, together with other characters not used in our former RPG gig. For example, we've considered becoming online roleplayers ourselves, playing Madonna on the verge of seducing Shakira. Or not. Femslash Bonding Ceremonies, anyone? Personally, I've been so sex-starved during the many months of playing Wizarding Britain's most colourful bloody spinster (Oh woe! To think, a pink-haired punk witch languishing alone, in a remodeled Irish cottage in Hogsmeade, Scotland, with no one but my ferret, Gabija, for company! It sucks to be me! All right now, enough of that...) that I've been seducing every fellow Harry Potter Muse Entity I can get my grubby little mitts on! Except current Death-Eaters, of course. And by the way, I think my Mum, Jo Rowling, wrote me completely wrong in HBP. I believe she got me crossed with Moaning Myrtle.

Anyhow! Even though our writer is still sort of grieving the loss of her roleplaying gig, she seems to be recovering well. We, the underused women of the Potterverse (and some of the blokes as well) are giving her lots of love and support, and the lot of us are putting our heads together for new fanfic ideas, erotic and otherwise. There are some great ideas being tossed about now, combining our fandom with contemporary politics, music, activism and Goddess spirituality. Our Auror Division are networking with our European counterparts to unmask Death-Eaters infiltrating Muggle terrorist groups as well as the U.S. and British military. We are also investigating the alleged U.S. torture sites in Europe and their possible Dark Wizarding connections. Among other things--including classified things involving siphoning psychic power away from corrupt government ministries and arranging the haunting of politicians by Middle Eastern war dead. And don't forget the even-more-esoteric Songspell activities, courtesy of the Finland-based Karelia Songspell Collective!

More of all of the above later...not to mention more animated icons...

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The Winter Vow... [26 Nov 2005|06:47pm]
[ mood | content ]
[ music | Something by Bob Dylan ]

Hello all! We Exiles have a little more free time on our hands, and Confundus is moving merrily along, as well as we can see, at any rate.

I made a Winter Vow recently--well, a little over a month ago. It is a temporary intimate partnership lasting from the fall equinox until dawn of the spring equinox. At that point, one can either terminate the partnership, or make a Summer Vow, which extends the partnership until the following fall equinox.

Alas, these are not legally binding in the United States; this does not, however, negate their validity as trial domestic partnerships; and they can be applied to couples of any sexual orientation. The concept came from the novel The Year the Horses Came, the first novel in Mary Mackey's Neolithic-inspired Earthsong Trilogy.

Here is the text of the vow we used:

"From now until the Spring Equinox, I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine. I accept the offer, the gift of love, of the one my heart loves, from now until the dawning of the next spring day. From now until then, I am yours. From now until then, I will be with no other; to no other besides you will I make vows of love and devotion. This vow shall terminate at dawn of the next Spring Equinox, subject to renewal by further vows, whether temporary or permanent, or not, as we shall agree.

"Come to my embrace and my hearthfire in perfect love and in perfect trust, and fear not. You are blessed, beloved and sacred to me, the one my heart loves, from now until the next Spring day. I pray every blessing of Creation and the Four Directions to rest on both our heads. So mote it be." [Exchange of tokens follows]


*Of course, certain phrases are borrowed with thanks from the Biblical Song of Songs, as Biblical scholars will undoubtedly note. Aside from these, the text of this vow is original.*
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OOC: The Winter Vow [26 Nov 2005|02:52pm]
[ mood | content ]

Hello all! We Exiles have a little more free time on our hands, and Confundus is moving merrily along, as well as we can see, at any rate.

I made a Winter Vow recently--well, a little over a month ago. It is a temporary intimate partnership lasting from the fall equinox until dawn of the spring equinox. At that point, one can either terminate the partnership, or make a Summer Vow, which extends the partnership until the following fall equinox. Alas, these are not legally binding in the United States; this does not, however, negate their validity as trial domestic partnerships; and they can be applied to couples of any sexual orientation. The concept came from the novel The Year the Horses Came, the first novel in Mary Mackey's Neolithic-inspired Earthsong Trilogy.

Here is the text of the vow we used:

"From now until the Spring Equinox, I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine. I accept the offer, the gift of love, of the one my heart loves, from now until the dawning of the next spring day. From now until then, I am yours. From now until then, I will be with no other; to no other besides you will I make vows of love and devotion. This vow shall terminate at dawn of the next Spring Equinox, subject to renewal by further vows, whether temporary or permanent, or not, as we shall agree.

"Come to my embrace and my hearthfire in perfect love and in perfect trust, and fear not. You are blessed, beloved and sacred to me, the one my heart loves, from now until the next Spring day. I pray every blessing of Creation and the Four Directions to rest on both our heads. So mote it be." [Exchange of tokens follows]

*Of course, certain phrases are borrowed with thanks from the Biblical Song of Songs, as Biblical scholars will undoubtedly note. Aside from these, the text of this vow is original.*

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Rome never looks where she treads... [15 Nov 2005|06:44pm]
[ mood | frustrated ]
[ music | The Pict Song (R. Kipling) by Joe Bethancourt ]

Legilimency is still not panning out. Appeal is pending. But at least our jury service is done for now; hopefully they won't be bugging me for more anytime soon.

Also, my new pendulum is not centered properly; it's just a rock that can't say "no"! What to do, what to do? Guess more pendulum shopping is in order, especially as I've just been commissioned to make a necklace for my mom's Swiss penpal of more than 50 years. Now, if I can just recall which colors the lady looks best in...

As for the legilimency, I approach that the way I used to approach playing for the group dancing at the dancehall in Glen Echo Park Irish festivals. That is to say, find someone to sneak me in when I wasn't actually on the performance program...*eg*

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