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[attr="class","redqueen"]Lately I've Been Thinking

[attr="class","tweedles"]It was a sad day when Iseul's trusty scale, one she had for over thirty years, started measuring inaccurately. The only reason she figured it out was when she was weighing out the necessary amount of crushed unicorn horn, and the balanced amount was significantly larger than it should have been. Frustrated, she'd weighed it out again with the same results, so she resorted to placing a galleon on each side and determining that her scale was indeed inaccurate when the left sank lower than the right. Not that she couldn't afford it, but she'd grown strangely attached to that old scale and she hated to see it go. Probably because it had been a gift from one of her husband, if she's honest. Nam-Kyo had always been supportive of her pursuits, and he'd bought it as an apology gift which she had graciously accepted before kicking him back out of the house because she hadn't quite forgiven him yet. She'd loved him, but she needed to trust him before she let him back.

It was strange how all those memories of him came back after so long, how they still felt fresh sometimes. She missed him, always would, but after more than 20 years without him it was easier to be happy because it had happened. He'd given her 12 years of marriage, and four children during that time. Sure, there'd been a few bumps, but no marriage was as perfect as it might seem to outsiders and for all their struggles, they'd been happy in the end. She sighed as she browsed the selections, unsure which to buy after all these years. She hadn't thought to see what kind of scale her old one was, and she didn't want to go home just to check. It wasn't like she needed anything too fancy, just one capable of balancing her ingredients and money accurately for as long as possible. The trouble was that Nam-Kyo had purchased her old one in Korea and she wasn't sure they even had the same one here in Britain. "It's days like this I almost want to go back to Korea," she muttered to herself.

[attr="class","rabbit"]360 - Max Dwyer - Outfit

♕fai

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When Durant had been in power, Max had clearly stayed clear of Diagon Alley. It was why he lived and worked in Knockturn Alley, it had been safety for him. Now that circumstances had changed and Durant was long gone he did venture more into the main alley. It was nice and welcoming for him strangely. He would go buy confectionery for his nieces and nephews or he would go shopping for new quills. It was important he maintain his stock in of quills in the shop and there was no shop in Knockturn alley that sold them. Well there were purveyors of antique quills or rare pieces but they were far to delicate to use every day. It was why he was better off just getting ordinary writing and drawing instruments. He also employed quills in that actual tattooing process so he had to make sure they were of good quality. Having good quality elements at his parlour showed his customer that he put effort into the parlour and that he was trying to bring to them a quality establishment where they they could come for all their inking needs.

He also needed decent tattoo gun supplies and that was what brought him to Wiseacres today. They had owled him earlier advising his order was in. So Max had left his shop in the trusty hands of his employees and had made his way down here to pick up his order. The shop was overly crowded with different elements everywhere but that was hardly surprising. That was the case with so many shops in the magical world. Max reckoned it was perhaps Flourish and blotts and Florean’s that were the least crowded.

As he made his way into the shop he passed an older looking woman and his nose was instantly hit with the smell of canine. He knew instantly he had come across another of his kind. At least they were still a few days out from the full moon but he had no idea if she took wolfsbane or not. He thought he heard her say something about Korea. Looking back at her he noted that she in fact did look Korean, not that he was and expert on nationalities. ”Do you need any help ma’am?” he asked taking a step back towards her smiling.

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[attr="class","redqueen"]When the Morning Comes

[attr="class","tweedles"]The thing about missing Nam-Kyo, was that Iseul didn't miss the things she heard other widows missing. She didn't miss the touches or the intimate moments, though those had been wonderful and enjoyable in their own right. Rather, Iseul missed having a constant friend. A confidant and rock, someone to help her stand and someone she could hold up in turn. It wasn't her husband she missed, but rather her partner. Other widows might call her detached and if she only let herself truly grieve then she would understand, but Iseul had spent years grieving his loss. Years of sleepless nights because the bed was too cold and her stresses were piling up without someone to confide in. Had she moved back to Korea, she might have been able to confide in her family, but they wouldn't have understood it. Not when they didn't believe in such sentiments beyond the proper grieving period. They would have pushed her to marry again, though they wouldn't have forced it per se; it would have been strongly implied that a second marriage would benefit her and the family, and she didn't want to face them and their pity. Nam-Kyo would have been lifted onto a pedestal and glorified as some kind of saint for going back to her after she shut him out so callously. As if he hadn't had an affair for years that she only discovered when there was a child as a result and the mistress had visited to share the news. She hadn't been angry at him for it in a long time, not really, but sometimes those old feelings resurfaced to remind her that he hadn't been perfect. Iseul hadn't cared for perfection.

In any case, she had a special attachment to that scale, and now that it was broken she wasn't sure how to go about finding a new one of that caliber, if one even existed. She turned when someone asked if she needed help. "I'm not entirely sure," she replied in her lightly accented English. "It's been so long since I've shopped for a scale that I'm rather at a loss for which one go get," she sighed and huffed a laugh. "My late husband purchased my last one, and it survived decades. I haven't had the need since my youngest attended school."

[attr="class","rabbit"]387 - Max Dwyer - please excuse the feels

♕fai

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Max was glad that werewolves had been immune to the epidemic that had gone through the British magical world. He didn’t want to know what they would be subject to if they too, had been placed into Quarantine. He had been Ostracised enough. There had to be a limit to it. But at least his kind had been spared this time. Things seemed to be going well for werewolves. While they would never have the complete set of rights that humans had, it was better than what they had been subjected to in the past. It didn’t mean they could now be complacent with looking out for anyone coming after them. He hoped that humans overall now had more welcoming attitude towards werewolves. Perhaps he was hoping for too much. Everyone that Max knew were open to his kind but the majority of them were his family, so technically, they had no choice.

Owing a tattoo parlour meant that he opened himself up to being around people willingly. Even with its location, he still got a steady stream of customers. He dealt with some of them and in return his business kept running. The location of the shop hardly did anything to deter people from coming in. Knockturn Alley was still a very a shady place and its visitor numbers had hardly increased in recen times. But Max had definitely seen a change in clientele. Sure, he still had Death Eaters come in. He never asked questions about their tattoos whether it was about their dark mark or any other ink they had pertaining to their political preference. It may have made him made since his mum was a muggle but he never showed that.

Most of the time he did very well when it came to hiding his feelings. The only time he ever really let go was when it was the full moon. Otherwise, he normally did well to control his anger or suppress his feelings. He always tried to where a pleasant expression on his face. When he was brooding though, another person could tell. But when he was out on his errands, he still smiled. Speaking to the older woman was no different.

Hearing her speak about the time since she had purchased a scale made him wonder just how old she could be, but it was none of his business.”Well, I suppose, it would come down to what you would be measuring with it…..” he advised her as he looked to the scales they had on offer.

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[attr="class","redqueen"]I Want to Change My Mind

[attr="class","tweedles"]It's been decades but the pain of losing Nam-Kyo is resurfacing with a vengeance, and Iseul doesn't know what to do with it. The house is so empty without him or any of the kids, though Joo-Won stops by more often than the others, usually around the full moon when his anger issues are at their most problematic. Still, it's not something she enjoys, puttering about her empty house doing work that's already been done half-a-dozen times in the past week and unsure about what to do with her life when so few people need wands after the epidemic hit. Sure, children going to school need new wands, but the season for that happens but once a year and more often than not, they purchase from a local shop with wands made decades ago just waiting for their right owner. Her wands weren't selling as well as they used to, which meant she wasn't making as many, though she hadn't stopped. Eventually the epidemic would be cured--she hoped--and all those witches and wizards would need new wands. Still, there was only so much wandmaking at home she could do.

Part of her was contemplating the idea of teaching, since it was likely the old professors for magic-based jobs had to step down when they lost their own, and she liked to think she'd be a decent teacher. Maybe once she'd gotten a little more accustomed to life on her own, because she didn't want to get so attached to her job that she used it as an excuse not to go home to her empty house. She needed to be comfortable by herself or she'd never get out of the depression she'd fallen into and only end up cycling through fits of it during the school year. Iseul might not be the most self-aware, but even she knew it wasn't healthy to rely on her job for companionship.

What did she use the scale for? Everything, really. "I'm a wandmaker, so I suppose I need one able to weigh out a variety of things accurately. Wood, core materials, various other embellishments. Not to mention potion ingredients for the household potions I keep." Like wolfsbane, to name one. She had a good stock of it right now, but it wouldn't take long to run out if she didn't have a scale to measure ingredients for making more.

[attr="class","rabbit"]395 - Max Dwyer - I'm sorry she's so sad rn

♕fai

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Being a werewolf wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. That was something that Max had learned after years of being this way. He knew it just took time to adapt and he felt he had so quiet well. He had managed to evade capture by the Werewolf capture unit during their existence. He thought it was comical when they had been disbanded and he was still free to live his life. It showed really who had the greater power. But at least he didn’t have to deal with that anymore.


Max was happy to be done with those days, it made his life so much easier and so much more enjoyable. He didn’t have to keep looking over his shoulder. He just had to worry about managing himself and his behaviour around a full moon. It was enough hassle for him to deal with, still, he didn’t move to using Wolfsbane. While he had knew it would keep him safe and his sister had reassured him of that, Max had long since embraced what he had become and he was not going to shy away from that. He saw no point in pretending not to be a werewolf. But he tried to not judge those of his kind that did take the potion. They were free to do as they pleased.

Max wished that everyone was free. As someone whose mother was a muggle, he didn’t want to see Muggelborns going through what they were experiencing. He had had some taste of oppression when Durant had been in power but he had enjoyed freedom that had come with his death and he would not trade that for anything. He knew that even with so many people losing their magic, even those that were key in keeping muggleborns under the thumb, they weren’t prepared to stop this registration shit. Max had long tried to pretend he wasn’t affected by this, because even being a werewolf, he had sympathy for those who had registered and he thought those that had gone on the run were brave. He hoped the latter group were safe.

He tried to go about his day as if nothing bothered him, even though he thought about it all day long. Max still had a business to run and one he had to manage. A tattoo parlour may not be the most favourable business out there but he did the best he could and made ends meet. He had sometimes considered moving out of Knockturn Alley and buying a house somewhere but the convenience of living about his workplace would be lost.

The woman he was speaking to seemed troubled and he could smell that even if she may not be wearing that expression on her face. He wans’t sure why buying a scale would cause her to feel that way but he knew that there was something else at place. Something he had no clue about.

He strode over and picked up a decent looking scale and showed it to her. ”What about this one? It looks durable and sturdy enough and would probably last some time” She looked like the type of person who would take care of their possessions to make them last the distance.

Words: 538

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[attr="class","redqueen"]When the Evening Falls

[attr="class","tweedles"]Merlin, she must look a right mess, and probably smelled it too--because Iseul hadn't missed the distinct scent notes of another werewolf. What must he think of her, getting emotional over a scale, of all things? Still, he was courteous and helpful, which Iseul appreciated in her time of need. Nam-Kyo would have liked him, she knew. Her children likely would too, she was sure, but it had been so long since anyone other than Joo-Won had visited in person that Iseul almost felt like she didn't know them anymore. They floo-called, occasionally, but conversations were often brief and usually centered around innocuous things, before they had to rush off again with promises to call again soon. She was proud of them, truly, but she missed them terribly. How bittersweet a reward was motherhood. Now if only they could give her grandchildren.

Iseul gave the scale the young man presented a good look over, noting that it was indeed of sturdy make, and likely would last a while with proper care and maintenance--which she was in the habit of doing, as it was what kept her last one working for thirty years. "It does appear well made," she agreed. "I'm terribly sorry. Getting so maudlin over a scale, of all things. I'm sure you didn't think you'd be dealing with a nearly weepy witch when you set about your day." It was probably the moon, in part, heightening her emotions more than reasonable, but the sadness was true even if it was exaggerated. She was sure she'd be embarrassed in a few weeks, when the moon phase wasn't affecting her so much and she recalled just how emotional she'd become around a stranger in a shop. For now, she was just grateful this stranger was nice enough to help and not judge her for it.

[attr="class","rabbit"]304 - Max Dwyer - I don't even know

♕fai

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Max had just come in here to pick up his order. He could never plan when he would run into a werewolf and there were so many of his kind out there. Max could often sniff them out before he saw them. But like himself, some of them dressed well that they didn’t look constantly haggard or that they had just faced a full moon. Though he had not really thought about it that much, he knew that each werewolf handled their transformation differently. For himself, it just involved getting out of the city and going to the woods. He had discovered that had worked best for him each month a long time ago. Max had refused to take wolfsbane for a long time despite how many times his sister had tried to convince him.

He understood that Renee meant well and that the others would have wanted him safe to but he didn’t want to deny what he was and he saw no point in turning his back on that. When he had first been bitten, he had long believed that he was being punished for what he had done with Christina that made her lose her life a year before and he would never forgive himself for that. Each time he visited their graves at the cemetery, he would always shed a few tears. Even all these years later, he missed them. He would always have a space in his heart for the two of them.

Max wasn’t in any and rush and he wanted to help the older woman. It was the first time he had ever met a werewolf who was a wandmaker if he was honest. But he supposed that his kind had a number of different occupations. Max had once thought about leaving the tattoo parlour and going to teach art to children before he loved children and he likely wasn’t going to have any of his own. But on second thought he didn’t think that he would ever be able to gain such a position. It wasn’t likely any magical institution would hire if he was going to be close proximity to children. His sisters were fine with him spending time with their children but that was likely it.

He didn’t mind working in a tattoo parlour but Max also liked being social. There were often a number of days where he had no clients or just a handful and he wanted something to do to fill in the time. This was aiding his need to be social. ”I really don’t mind ma’am, it doesn’t look like there is any shopkeeper about and if you need a scale so badly, I’m happy to help” said as he put the scale back on the display and held out his hand. ”I’m Max by the way, nice to meet you….” he introduced himself, hoping she would supply her name in return.

Words: 486