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[attr="class","ctopline"]One misstep, you're mine

[attr="class","cscriptspeci"]and you better stay clever

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[attr="class","clyrics"] if you wanna survive[break]
Once you cross the line

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[attr="class","cbody"]Date: 25 September 2018[break]
Location: Flat above Hog's Head
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She was not sick.
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Absolutely not.
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Apolline Margary Ariana Dumbledore was not going to fall prey to an epidemic that was going to suck her magic away from her. It was just not possible. It was absolutely and completely not going to happen.
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Honestly, she had not been all that worried about getting sick. Apolline had just thought that she would be fine. That her brothers would be fine. They were strong enough to get through some epidemic. Of course, they were. There had been no real reason for concern.
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The state of emergency had been announced weeks ago and they had been fine. None of them had gotten sick. They had kept up their work, the boys played at being bartenders downstairs as they tended to do, and everything had been fine. More people had gotten sick by the day, but still they had been fine.
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Until two days ago, when she had woken up with the worst headache that she’d had in a while. Sure, she’d had her fair share of hangovers in her day, but this had felt different. Still, the night before she’d had a few too many vodka tonics, so she had told herself that was what it was. Even if it felt different, it was just from the vodka. That was all. But as the day had gone on, a sore throat had started to accompany the headache and by the end of that day, she had felt absolutely miserable.
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But she had hidden it, of course. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be holed up in her room working on research or whatever experiment was on her mind. Her brothers wouldn’t immediately think that something was wrong if they didn’t cross paths for a little while. She had told herself that she would feel better in the morning,
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She hadn’t. Of course, she hadn’t.
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Now she had a fever, and during her earlier experiments, she had nearly blown her hand off when something hadn’t quite gone as planned. Alchemy was dangerous enough with perfectly normal magic, let alone flickering magic. Keeping this up was not safe. She knew that.
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Honestly, she thought it was only a matter of time until one her brothers came knocking. They didn’t interrupt each other while they were working all the time, but she hadn’t seen either of her brothers since Saturday. She had barely left her room since Saturday, mostly because she didn’t want them to realize that she was sick.
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She might have been the youngest, might have been the only girl, but she had always prided herself on being just as strong as her brothers. And now, with this? She wasn’t quite ready for her brothers to realize that soon she was going to be the weak one. She wanted to put that off as long as humanely possible.
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But even if they didn’t interrupt each other’s work all of the time, since they hadn’t seen her in days and there had just been an explosion loud enough to shake the apartment, she figured it was only a matter of time before they either came knocking… or just burst in without knocking. It could go either way at this point.
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Throwing her bloody useless wand against the opposite wall, Apolline lowered herself down onto her bed, bringing her hands to her head as if merely pressing them against her head would stop the pounding. No such luck.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]572 ● Axton Enzo Grey Dumbledore ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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Monsters stuck

in your head, under your bed

We are monsters

Axton had been back from the Scholomance for years now. He should have adjusted to not being underground...but he really hadn't. Not really. He was still incredibly adverse to sunlight. Some left the school happy to return to the day. He was not among them. He was made for the night. He had always known that, but his time away at school really confirmed it. It always felt like night at Şolomanţă. The longer you were there, the less connection you had with the schedule 'normal' people kept. You slept when you were tired. You went to class when it was scheduled. You gave yourself over to learning the masteries of magic the Devil had opened up for you. That didn't change when you left the school---not really. 

Seven years away, and he would still go back in an instant. The place itself had so much power. It was intoxicating. His desire to go back to study Necromancy further pressed in his mind constantly now that the Minister had closed the borders. It was as if because he could not go, now it was imperative to go. It was silly really. Axton knew that it was the inability to leave that made him want to go badly. He doubted very much when the travel ban was lifted that he'd leave his siblings again. It was too easy to get lost in Şolomanţă, to forget the outside world. He didn't want to forget his brother and sister. He didn't want to forget their mission. He wanted to see what could really be managed if they possessed all the Hallows. 

But they had to stay healthy to continue their work. They could not be stricken down by this magic stealing plague. They had avoided the first wave of sickness, but he was not sure that a second would not come. He was taking precautions. He had not shagged anyone this whole month...well, since the sixth anyway. 

He really didn't want to man the bar tonight. Hoping he could sweet talk Apolline into covering the shift, he knocked on her door. He really should have waited on her to answer, but if she had not wanted he or their brother to come in, she would have locked it. So, Axton let himself in. Confusion struck him at seeing his sister in bed, clutching her head. Oh shit... Was she sick? She definitely was not going to cover his shift. 

"Ama?" he said softly, calling her by her initials: Apolline Margary Ariana.  Axton took a  tentative step closer. "Love?" He was not really sure what to do. From all reports, the hospital was doing nothing at all besides sticking people into quarantine. But he was a Dumbledore...they were better than those buffoons at St. Mungo's or the Ministry.  

@ darling sister • 464 • outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

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[attr="class","ctopline"]ONE MISSTEP, YOU'RE MINE

[attr="class","cscriptspeci"]and you better stay clever

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[attr="class","clyrics"]IF YOU WANNA SURVIVE[break]
ONCE YOU CROSS THE LINE

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[attr="class","cbody"]At the first sign of the epidemic, Apolline had shrugged and gone right back to her experiments. There was no reason to fear something that was not going to impact her. Dumbledores were made of stronger stuff than that—she couldn’t even remember the last time that she had come down with a cold, let alone anything more serious than that.
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Mind over matter. That was what it came down to. She had too much work that needed to be done. Her experiments weren’t going to come to an end because of some epidemic. Every day she felt closer to… something. She didn’t know. Recreating the Resurrection Stone was not an easy feat. Necromancy was difficult enough, in and of itself. All of her experiments had been proof enough of that and she had been studying that dark art for years—long before her attendance at Nuremberg Hochschule für dunkle Künste. The Resurrection Stone required a mix of necromancy and alchemy that had proven to be challenging. Of course, it had. She was not the first person that had tried to recreate the stone, she was sure of that.
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But she was going to be the first to be successful and that meant that there was simply no epidemic that was going to stop her. Weeks had passed and she had not gotten sick and neither had her siblings. To her, it had just proven her point. Dumbledores were not going to fall prey to this. They just weren’t.
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Yet, here she was. Despite her certainties, there was little doubt in her mind of what was happening. Apolline was not a naïve woman. There was no way that this was just any old cold. No reason to think that she had come down with a simple head cold in the midst of Epidemic X. She might have been able to blame it on one too many vodka tonics when she had first woken up with a headache, but days had passed since then.
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Even if she was naïve, the recent explosion was proof that her magic was starting to flicker. Soon, it would fade. And then what? What was she going to be when it was done with her? She would be nothing more than a Squib. She would be unable to keep up with her experiments, unable to do… anything at all, really. Circe, she was going to end up a bartender full time, and she couldn’t imagine a worse fate than that. Her brothers already knew how much she hated being behind the bar—she could just imagine the looks on their faces when that was all that she was. Not an alchemist, not a necromancer, not the first sibling to recreate their hollow. A bartender.
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Their bordering-on-unfriendly competition would be out the window. They would likely feel like they couldn’t brag about their strides toward success when she couldn’t do magic at all. They would think she was too delicate, that it was mean to bring it up to her at all. Merlin, how absolutely pathetic she was going to be. She felt pathetic now, just thinking about it.
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She had been avoiding her siblings—avoiding the inevitable, really. She didn’t want them to know that she was sick. But when the door swung open, she realized that she hadn’t locked it and knew that the secret was certainly out now. “What?” She didn’t even bother lifting her face from her hands as she spoke. What was the point in acting like she was okay now? She very clearly wasn’t.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]593 ● @ brother ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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