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| | Care of Magical Creatures Lover of animals and want to know how to care for them all? Then this is the class for you! | 
08-19-2025, 08:39 PM
| | |  The Sanctuary
The Sanctuary is stretched across a wide field with sectioned pens for all the habitable creatures to reside, with cute designs on each gate indicating which creature resides. In each of the pens are nice little wooden benches for you to rest and enjoy some time with the friendly creatures. Kneazles can be found lounging in shaded corners with their poofy tails swishing in the wind, Hippogriffs strutted with wings half-spread, Puffskeins bounced happily, and herds of Winged Horses grazed peacefully beneath the sun before making their way back into the stables. As for the other housed creatures, they may be found roaming about in their respective sections, although the Thestrals are perhaps the hardest for all to spot.
It includes the grand alcove where classes usually take place, with feed buckets and water troughs replenished by magic. Spare Dragon-hide gloves and aprons are hung neatly along the wall for students to use. A small walkway ascends to the roof of Professor Menon’s shack to where the feathered creatures occasionally visit, with a safety barrier charmed to prevent accidents. There are also plenty of flower patches blooming near a pond where some frogs could be seen hopping happily, with a nice swing set and benches by some trees.
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01-22-2026, 05:13 AM
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#2 (permalink)
|  Wizarding World RPG Admin
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|  for Zoe! astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
Not stalking. Pattern recognition.
Ariel Scamander passed through the Sanctuary like clockwork roughly the same time in the afternoons and Calliope had simply… adjusted her route to intersect with it. Nothing at all unusual or off about that - as long as everyone ignored how much she avoided anything with four legs and the audacity to shed like they carried the plague or were threatening her with singing some of dad's ancient relics of the musical world. See? Nothing weird here.
The Sanctuary stretched out before her in all its sprawling, well-kept, deeply unnecessary glory, which did nothing to make the creatures inside any less objectionable. Calliope kept a careful distance from all of them, veering closely towards the flobberworms simply because they were the least likely to make any sudden movements - and notably had no fur - before settling on one of the benches near the pond nearest a patch of frogs. Frogs she could handle. Frogs were fine.
The Sanctuary stretched out before her in all its sprawling, well-kept, deeply unnecessary glory, which did nothing to make the creatures inside any less objectionable. Calliope kept a careful distance from all of them, veering closest to the flobberworms simply because they were the least likely to make any sudden movements — and, notably, had no fur — before settling on one of the benches near the pond, nearest a patch of frogs. Frogs she could handle. Frogs were fine.
A thin folder rested on her lap, weighted down with a stone, sheet music spread open beneath her hands. She made a few neat pencil corrections, refining a rhythm line for a drum solo, then paused to consider how a guitar melody might weave over it. Three parts. Three girls. Percussion, guitar, and something else... bass, keys, maybe strings if she could find someone. Arms folded loosely, the brunette fixed her gaze somewhere neutral while she pretended not to catalog every sound of footsteps on the paths behind her.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaany minute now... Scamander would walk by...
Coincidence, after all, was just good timing with plausible deniability.
__________________ We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back.........................................
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass.....................................
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like | 
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01-25-2026, 11:28 PM
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#3 (permalink)
| Forum Manager
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| Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
Ariel took the long way around, boots already dusted with hay and something faintly glittering that she hoped was just leftover Augurey feather-molt.
The Sanctuary hummed in its familiar late-afternoon rhythm—wings rustling, hooves shifting, the soft chorus-like chitter of Puffskeins bouncing into one another like enchanted pom-poms with opinions. Nimbus snorted from the Abraxan enclosure as she passed, while Solaris tossed her golden mane in a way that felt suspiciously judgmental.
"Hi to you too," Ariel muttered fondly, reaching through the fence to let warm breath brush her knuckles before moving on.
She paused at the Kneazle pen. Button launched himself at her like a furry cannonball. Purrlock Holmes followed with considerably more dignity, while Mister Meowgi merely blinked slow approval from his perch. Ariel scratched behind Button's ears, laughing when he meowed up at her.
"Oh, cut that out. I wasn't gone that long," she told him. "You're acting as if I had gotten lost the Forbidden Forest for days."
Only then did she look toward the pond.
Ariel slowed. Not because she meant to, but because Calliope Barrington was there, perched carefully on a bench with sheets of paper spread across her lap. Her pencil was moving in neat, precise strokes while the frogs hopped lazily at the water's edge.
The redhead made her approach, pretending she had absolutely not clocked Calliope's exact location from across the Sanctuary like a Seeker.
"Fancy seeing you around here," she greeted, stopping close enough to be friendly and far enough not to startle her into joining the frogs. "What are you writing ... or plotting?"
__________________
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Today, 08:57 AM
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#4 (permalink)
| Wizarding World RPG Admin
Gladrags Mod
Quibbler Mod
Minister for Magic
Alley Proprietor Sea Serpent
Join Date: Aug 2010 Location: The Paths
Posts: 41,047
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Professor Cox
Ravenclaw Graduated
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Briallen Ashburry-Hawthorne
Gryffindor Fourth Year
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Nyle Harden
Hufflepuff Fifth Year
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Iris Harden
Ravenclaw Fifth Year
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Calliope Barrington
Slytherin Fourth Year
Ministry Department Head:
Charles Hollingberry
Minister's Office
Ministry Department Head:
Airey Flamsteed
Mysteries
Diagon Alley Proprietor:
Victor García Massey
Ollivanders
x12 x12
| astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
She looked up from the sheet music with all the practiced nonchalance of someone who had absolutely not been rehearsing this moment in her head for the past couple of hours ten minutes, pencil pausing mid-margin like Scamander hadn't just appeared exactly where and when expected and Calliope hadn't been watching her through her lashes as the red head greeted every other creature on her way over this way.
Which was why she wasn’t startled in the slightest—though she did her best to behave as if this were the biggest coincidence in the world. "I could say the same about you," she hummed. Her gaze dipped briefly back to the pages in her lap, buying herself a beat. "Mmmmm, neither really," she replied, angling the folder just enough to obscure the messier scribbles without fully closing it but definitely enough to be enticing for a peek. "Though I guess of the two, plotting is arguably closer." Writing was for essays and all that, this was composition was was totally different.
Her eyes flicked from Scamander's boots to the hay-dusted hem of her robes, and then somewhere around her shoulder. "It's a music piece I've been finetuning for what feels like forever now," she explained then, like it had only just occurred to her, "I'm thinking about putting something together. Small. Three people abouts." She tapped the paper once. "I’m looking for a singer who knows what a harmony is and how to find it." Her gaze lifted fully then, meeting the Gryffindor's with an easy, almost bored look that took considerable internal effort to maintain. "And," the brunette added, as if this were a perfectly incidental observation and not information she had absolutely filed away, "I did notice you signed up to sing solo at the end-of-year thing. And Frog Choir practices don't lie, you can sing, though maybe not as effortly as you fly, but you've got some pipes on you."
__________________ We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back.........................................
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass.....................................
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like | |
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