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 Post subject: A Scot Comes Home
 Post Posted: Sat Nov 20, 2010 4:43 am 
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Location: Pennsylvania
((It is time for me to bring my poor guy home. First, some business. I've decided to roleplay that Feargus has been at Durmstrang this last year and some months. He left somewhat suddenly at the end of his last year, and few have managed to hear from him since. Below is what I've decided to do in place of a roleplay post. Its a video, I call it a moving picture book. Due to timing constraints with some parts of it, it may be hard to keep up with for some of you, and for that I apologize. I recommend watching it more than once. The best way to watch it is to download it via the Google Docs link, though I've embedded it for those of you who don't want to use that.

I'll be bumping a new bio for him tonight as well, with new pictures for him. If any of you considered yourselves friends of his and would like to discuss with me any kind of communication you might have been able to have with him over the last year, please send me a PM and we'll chat.


Welcome home, Feargus))

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https://docs.google.com/leaf?id=0Bz9tan ... y=CJrr_90B

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________________

_________________
"They called me mad, and I called them mad, and damn them, they outvoted me" -Nathaniel Lee

Shifty are the eyes of the gambler...



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 Post subject: Re: A Scot Comes Home
 Post Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 2:11 pm 
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Joined: Mon Nov 24, 2008 12:00 am
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Image

Laughter fills the tiny parlor as firelight flickers on the little Christmas tree in the corner. Feargus and his sister sit on a small couch across from their mother, the three sipping hot drinks from steaming mugs. Feargus has a folded green and gold tartan cloth across his lap.

"An' then 'ee went an' slaipped, fallin' clear on 'is bo'om, the cheeky bugger," Siobhan exclaims, the other two joining in her contagious laughter.

"Wail, wha' A don' gaither is wha' ye two bairns were doin' rinnin' aboot i' the kitchen aniway, an' at an 'oor like tha'!" their rosy-cheeked mother grins at them, clearly not intending chastisement.

"Oi, mam, Sak'n me been fere's since afore Siobhan e'er came tae Hogwarts. 'ee's been gettin' me scran fer years a'tit." Feargus swallows his steaming drink a little too quickly and grimaces, coughing. Siobhan happily whacks him on the back, either thinking he was choking or hoping he'd think she thought he was choking.

"Go on then, you! Gae 'at owt," she says, grinning.

He continues coughing, interspersed with laughter, "Bluidy 'ell, Siobhan, yair mak'in i' worse!"

They all have another good laugh, clearly something they've long needed together. As it dies to mutual grins, they hear a stout knock on the front door. Their mother jumps up...

"Oh! Tha' must be Mrs. McCowley. A dun towl her tae wait unteel tha' morn fair her buns an' biscuits..."

The two merry siblings stay in the parlor, bickering happily over some point of school mayhem. Mrs. MacDale scurries into the kitchen and through the attached bakery to the front door. She opens it and says in a cheery tone...

"McCowley, A towl ye...." her voice fades to a whimper...

"Ulysses..."

The two "bairns" in the parlor take one look at each other and quickly set their mugs down, competing to be the first through the kitchen to the door. A massive man stands in the doorway, easily over six feet tall and broad-shouldered. He has a magnificent grey beard and a mane of curly grey hair beneath a wool fedora. His striking green eyes, which so closely match Feargus' own, fly to the children as they run. Siobhan hurls herself at him in a vicious hug, which is returned gladly in kind.

The man laughs, "Siobhan! Ye act like ye havenay seen me in months!"

She releases herself from the hug long enough to whack him good-naturedly on the arm, "Tha's 'cawse A -havenay-, ye awful man! Ye don' visit us often enough!"

He laughs and gives her another quick hug, closing the door and turning to Feargus. Feargus grins and shakes his hand firmly...

"Uncle Ulysses, you're here!"

Ulysses laughs again, putting a hand on Mrs. MacDale's shoulder, "Aye, O' course A am, ye crazy bairns. It's Christmas, or nigh on. Taime tae spend wi' fowks. We hae business tae talk aboot, too. And nae, thank ye Sam," he turns to Mrs. MacDale, "Me coat an' hat'll be just fain here in the shop."

She still looks flustered as she takes his things and hangs them up. Despite this, she too has gained a bit of the glow that the children have seemed to absorb from their uncle. Clearly, he is a favored presence in the small house.

"Gae on, ye two, tae him in the parlor. A'll be raight through!"

The two younger MacDales lead their uncle into the parlor and he sinks wearily into an armchair which had, heretofore, sat unused. Feargus and Siobhan shoot each other a quick glance, but keep their thoughts to themselves. Mrs. MacDale quickly bustles in, joining them with another steaming mug.

"A hae some mulled wine fer ye here, Ulysses. Yair shoor tae be need'n some after yair trip."

He smiles to her and takes it gladly as she returns to her own chair, "A thank ye, Sam, this is kind o' ye. But, me trip wasnay as long as ye maight expect. Tha', in a way, is a bit o' wha' A came here tonight tae talk to ye aboot."

The younger MacDales shoot each other another quick look as Mrs. MacDale frowns at her husbands brother.

"Now wha' on eart' is tha' tae mean, Ulysses?"

"Wail," he gives them all a smile, "It's a li'l aboot me William, a bit aboot meself, an' a bit aboot yairn's."

At the name of "William," they all exchange another uncertain look.

Ulysses clears his throat and continues, "'Suppose A maight as wail begin wi' William, so as tae get the mos' difficult part out at the beginnin'. 'ee's made a raight mess for the lot o' us, but moreso at me end than ye'd think. Aye, aye, A know 'ees run off, an' furthermore, A know the circumstances," he says, in response to worried looks from the three.

"Ye see, when William was but a wee lad, an' A wasnay yet nine years ol', 'ee got a special invite from some special school owt on the continent. At seem'd a raight guid school, an' well-provided an' all. We didnay see 'im much the next ten years or so, as they kept 'im raight busy a' the school, or so we heard. E'en after 'ee got don' wi' the school, 'ee kept tae himself, an' spent quite a few years travelin' all over. A didnay know 'im well, back then.

"Ye see, the trouble is, we thawt 'ee was a squib, me mam an' I afore she died. An' ye lot thawt 'ee was a Muggle. 'ee was, clearly, neither." He pauses to allow for some rather surprised exclamations...

"A squib? But wait, yair no' a...ye cannay be....ye ARE a..."

"Nae WAY, ye ne'er tol' us tha', ye mangy -bugger-, why'd ye..."

"Ulysses! But....yair no' a wizard too?"


He gives them all a long, sad smile, and nods.

"Aye, A am. Our whole family is, has been fair generations. 'Course, 'ee told ye lot tha' 'ee wasnay slightly related tae wizards, an' when 'ee told us anything, 'ee told us -ye lot- werenay related slightly tae wizards. So we held our tongues and ye lot held your'n, an' naebody ken the difference. Until now."

"Wicked..." breathes Siobhan, seemingly the only one with words for the moment.

"Ulysses...this is...this is too much. Me head's gon' reelin'..." Mrs. MacDale closes her eyes and shakes her head.

"A know, Sam, A know. Way do ye think A came all this way tae tell ye? This is nae the sort o' thing ye send in an owl. Though, wi' a quick Apparate, it's nae as long as ye'd think, as A mentioned at the beginnin'."

Feargus finally clears his throat, "Uncle Ulysses...does this mean tha' -everyone- i' the family is a wizard? Gaerns an' Moira an' Sissy an' Tommy an'...an'..." he pauses to take a breath.

Ulysses laughs, "Aye, lad, likely all o' them. A know ye lot always enjoyed coming tae visit us on holidays. A know ye've a lot tae think on...but we'd really like it if ye'd come an' move in wi' us at the castle up north. There's room fair everybody, as ye wail know, an' A know the lads an' lasses'd love tae have ye there. The twin's'll likely be goin' tae Hogwarts next year, an' its been some taime since Sissy got out o' the place. A'm shoor she'd love tae talk tae ye lot abou' it."

Siobhan, her eyes not having left Ulysses face in some time, shakes her head, "-Wicked-..." she says again, with a grin.

Ulysses goes to stand, "A know ye've got things to do, an' we can work out details after Christmas if ye like, but A likely ought tae leave ye lot in peace fair..."

Mrs. MacDale cuts him off, "Ulysses, stay the night. There's room, as -ye- wail know," she gives him a soft smile as he settles back into the chair.

The MacDale family chatters on well into the night, the firelight slowly dying to faintly flicker from the hearth and glint off ornaments on the tree. A difficult time is drawing near to dawn, or as much of an end as any of them can expect to have. A brighter break of day seems around the bend, and laughter fills this room where darkness dwelt only weeks before.

_________________
"They called me mad, and I called them mad, and damn them, they outvoted me" -Nathaniel Lee

Shifty are the eyes of the gambler...



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