Chat with Alphonse

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Date: January 16th, 2013
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Read Today's Daily Prophet: Knights of Walpurgis attack Hogwarts; Belleford steps down as Hogwarts closes until further notice

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Here at Hogwarts our students are currently in their Seventh Year. Last year, the war against the Knights crescendoed into a direct attack against the school. Disappearances are still reported (or not) daily, and the Dark Lord and his Knights of Walpurgis have succeeded in spreading their message of "do as thou will" far and wide across the globe. Magical Law Enforcement, which is now the only authority in the wizarding world under Martial Law, has responded by tightening security, controlling the media, and strictly enforcing curfews and other laws. Their control is damaging to the people's freedom, and their hierarchy is a suspicious lot. It is clear that some members of the MLE like their new found power a bit too much, others see it necessary, but all are in serious danger of being consumed by it. But with the picture of just what Azariah Amaranth is after becoming ever clearer, and a third player in the form of a group called SAVIOR entering the scene, what will the MLE do next to ensure that they've got the situation under control?

The Elementium, the Higher Plane that had once been hidden just beyond the veil in the Department of Mysteries, and the Deathly Hallows. The pieces of the puzzle have been identified, but what picture do they make?

Today is Day 1 of Year Seven. Students have had time to recover from the Knight's attack, and are beginning to reluctantly return to the walls of Hogwarts. The safety of the school has been diminished, bringing up the question everyone must ask. Are you safe anywhere these days? It's up to each individual to decide their fate, where will you decide to go?

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Chat with Alphonse
Tweet Topic Started: Apr 7 2008, 09:48:35 PM (253 Views)
Charles Tortal	Apr 7 2008, 09:48:35 PM Post #1
Magical Concepts Professor Posts: 315 Group: External Citizen Member #87 Joined: Feb 11 2007	OOC: I'll just imagine that this happened before Nate knocked. Charles sat quietly working on the variety of different papers scattered across his desk. Many of the papers were simply homework assignments, but others of them were rather personal and private. Sighing to himself and tapping a few of the papers, they picked themselves up and slowly drifted through the air to a pile that was accumulating there after. Picking up one letter in particular, Charles held it up and looked at it with a bored expression. He read it quickly. Charles Tortal: It is my greatest misfortune that I must send this to you instead of my own grandson. He tends to simply throw items from home away without a second thought, but I'm sure if you gave it to him then he would actually acknowledge the presence of our guidance. As it is obvious that my daughter-in-law has done a terrible job due to the death of her husband, dear Hellius has become quite the nuisance. Attached to this letter is another addressed for my grandson along with an attachment. Charles stopped reading for a moment and felt around the bottom of the envelope that the letter came in. There was a rather large bump that killed off the unity of the container. He continued: Thank you, Charles. Stop at the citadel sometime, I'd love to chat. Georgia Surla Charles sighed once more.



Deleted User	Apr 7 2008, 10:32:54 PM Post #2
Deleted User	What a joy it was to fly! Sure, he could barely see, but it was an oddly visceral experience sensing everything around you by the sound of your inaudible screeching reverberating off of everything around you. Alphonse had just left the Three Broomsticks, where he was staying, waiting until he could get some more intel on those mysterious deaths, and also so he could find Charles later, which is exactly what he wished to do. A screech, undetectable by human ears, was returned to him as he flapped his large leathery wings, rising upwards, telling him that the castle was near. Another burst of sonar let him know that a man stood in his office on the sixth floor: Charles. With another use of his echolocation, he pinpointed the position of the open window, and the great black bat swooped down and swooped through the window, suddenly growing larger as he entered. The great leathery wings seemed to retract, shooting up into the bones and skin that formed the arms (which were now thickening into well-muscled appendages) before his claws--which had enlongated to form something almost like human feet with sharp toenails--even hit the ground. As they did, however, the bat-thing now so much resembling one of Dracula's transformations, was about six feet tall. The snout of the thing receded into a well shaped nose, and hair seemed to shoot back into the body. Claws became hands, and long blond hair shot forth out of the skull as large ears went the opposite. Robes formed, delicate, black things that so much resembled the leathery wings he'd just supported as the billowed in the wind of his landing. The last thing that separated Alphonse the bat, from Alphonse the man--his fangs--momentarily remained, causing him to look ever more like a fiction of Bram Stoker's, before shooting up and becoming human teeth. Charles seemed to be reading something to himself, and he was as elegantly dressed and intimidating as ever. Here was a man truly worthy of the respect and admiration of Alphonse de Ponte du Lac--heir to a pureblood legacy as old as any. "Hello Charles," he said, trying his best to be tactful, and to hid his eagerness to report of his great success.
Deleted User


Charles Tortal	Apr 8 2008, 09:32:49 AM Post #3
Magical Concepts Professor Posts: 315 Group: External Citizen Member #87 Joined: Feb 11 2007	Charles looked over the letter a few more times before dropping it lightly onto his desk. He had several impulses to look into Georgia's letter for Hellius, but it was something that he couldn't push himself to do. Whatever was inside of the letter was not his business in anyway whatsoever and so he couldn't push himself to break into the Surla's private matters. Just as he was about to go out for a cup of tea, there was a bang against his window by a bat that soon underwent a metamorphosis. Soon enough, there stood Alphonse de Ponte du Lac in all his glory. Charles stood out of habit and flashed a head motion to acknowledge the man. Putting out his hand to the chair that sat on the other side of his desk, he sat. "Alphonse," the man began, a smirk vividly growing across his lips. The folded his hands on his desk and watched the Ponte du Lac very carefully. Every motion was accounted for. "How was it?"



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