El Taco Taco

Canceling the Apocalypse ;; ClosetMonster && El Taco Taco

Olivia relaxed slightly at the easy banter between Shankari and Ribsy. It was familiar. Olivia knew how to handle banter, how to engage with sarcastic quips and ease up. She rubbed the tension out of the back of her neck, trying to think through Ribsy’s questions through the haze of exhaustion.

The sparring. Olivia thought to the folders locked away in her footlocker. Darren’s information was incredibly detailed, a leg up in the competition to win the chance to fight. She didn’t understand half the jargon, but Olivia was smart enough to get the gist of it. Sharing the load, balancing the stress across two pilots, melding minds and bodies into harmony. Olivia thought it sounded like a bunch of new-age bullshit, but even she couldn’t deny the simple beauty to the logic.

“I think,” she decided on finally, “That it’s probably more of the same, to be honest. More psych testing, just dressed up in PT to try and catch us off-guard. Everything’s a mind game here. They’d rather break candidates early rather then have them break against a Kaiju.”

Year One [ Closed for TheDookieNut and El Taco Taco ]

George’s comment on brothers brought a grateful smile to her lips. It was nice to not be alone in dealing with obnoxious siblings. She finished collecting the cards she had thrown, arranging them as neatly as one could arrange recently exploded cardstock. Passing them to George, she returned her attention to the landscape, humming brightly. Everything would be lovely—they must be getting close, right? Sadie could only hope. She needed to be at the castle now!

He asked her about what she did—and she tilted her head, considering his words. As he mentioned that he had yet to go to school, she found herself gaping. No primary school? That was just weird.

“Everyone is homeschooled? What if both your parents work?” She frowned, finding the idea very peculiar. Her mum and dad were always busy with the farm and their business. There’s no way they would have had time to homeschool her. “I started primary school when I was five. I would have been going to secondary school this year if I hadn’t gotten my letter. Um… outside of school and the farm, I really like films! And video games!”

Sadie didn’t really think how alien her words would sound as she began babbling, bouncing away.

Unintended

Viktor Krum | Twenty Eight | Seeker for Vrasta Vultures | Pureblood

10 ¼” Hornbeam Wand, Dragon Heartstring Core.
…hornbeam selects for its life mate the talented witch or wizard with a single, pure passion, which some might call obsession... Hornbeam wands adapt more quickly than almost any other to their owner’s style of magic, and will become so personalised, so quickly, that other people will find them extremely difficult to use even for the most simple of spells. Hornbeam wands likewise absorb their owner’s code of honour, whatever that might be, and will refuse to perform acts - whether for good or ill - that do not tally with their master’s principles.

Unintended

FALCONS FANS RUNNING WILD – VANDALISM RAMPANT NATIONWIDE IN A “GOOD SPOT OF FUN”

With the recent announcement of the English lineup for the 2002 Quidditch World Cup, a few enthusiastic fans have been leaving the Falcons logo emblazoned across the country. Efforts to stop the tomfoolery have been ineffective at best, with officials from the Department of Magical Games Fair Play Division desperately trying to keep up with the Falcon’s hooligans. Fair Play officials are presently trying to remove no less than six painted falcons defecating upon rival team’s stadiums across the country.

“It’s been a right nightmare,” claims Fair Play Enforcer Dennis Creevey, “We’ve got Enforcers working overtime to try and get the stadiums cleaned up. I’m sure the gits responsible think the stinging hexes were clever, but they are really quite unappreciated.”

The Prides have been calling for fines to be levied against the Falmouth Falcons, a cry which has been echoed by eight other teams in the British-Irish League in the past three days. A spokesman from the Department of Magical Games Regulatory Commission has refused to comment on the pending investigation.

The Falcons, for their part, have reacted to the vandalism with fiendish glee. “It’s a good spot of fun is all,” says Chaser Katie Bell, whose recent appointment to the English team sparked this recent bout of defacement, “No one’s even been maimed.”

Bell, famous for having racked up a record number of fouls in the 2001 semi-finals against the Tutshill Tornadoes, has promised to bring the Falmouth spirit to the English team. In an official statement, Katie Bell assured her fanbase that, despite pressure from the International Quidditch Commission, she has no intent of holding back from her famously violent style.

A petition has surfaced recently calling for the removal of Bell from the team, but the English team has yet to release an official statement on the controversial selection.

Taco's Taco Truck! [High Casual-Advanced, Ignore Post Count]

Bump!

Year One [ Closed for TheDookieNut and El Taco Taco ]

I finally found a redhead surly enough to play Brennan!

Taco's Taco Truck! [High Casual-Advanced, Ignore Post Count]

Bump!

the skyline is burning red [ closed for SinfulSkills and El Taco Taco ]

Your first image is broken, just a heads up! And finally got Parminder's bio up.

the skyline is burning red [ closed for SinfulSkills and El Taco Taco ]

It wasn't the strangest request her former partner had made of her, but it was up there. It was certainly quite the question to spring on a woman eyes deep in paperwork in an overheated office. Parminder blinked and asked him to repeat his request, slightly stunned.

"Parminder, you have to go with me to the party tonight, please–"
"You have got to be kidding me."
"Look, partner, I need your help. I can’t show up alone."
"Eric. No one in the Department cares. Just go with Paul."

Eric gave her the sort of smile he might direct at a particularly grumpy toddler. He spoke in a patient voice, as if he was explaining that, no, you can’t bite people who don’t give you their toys,

"It’s not the department I’m worried about. It’s my parents. They’re dreadfully old hat. I just need you to hold my arm and play adoring for all of five minutes. My parents will eat it up and they'll continue living in blissful denial." He leaned on her desk, flashing that dazzling smile down at her. Parminder's dark brow arched itself, clearly unimpressed.

"Next you'll be asking me to come home with you and pretend to be your girlfriend proper. Then I'll be your make-believe fiancé and then we'll get imaginary married. It's a slippery slope, Eric." She scoffed, looking back down to the reports she was scouring, but Eric pushed her papers away, drawing her attention away from the paperwork and back to the matter at hand.

"We'll fake break up at the end of the night, promise," and there was a weary hopefulness on her ex-partners face that she couldn’t bear to dash. Parminder sighed, looking over at the senior Auror and his designer work robes. His blue eyes shined at her, urging her to say yes. It wasn’t that big of a request, she conceded. They'd spent hours sifting through paperwork and out on the field, staking out suspicious witches and wizards. They'd broken into more fancy mansions than she could count, had dueled some of the most dangerous sorcerors in the country and stumbled their way back to the Ministry from the bar on dozens of nights. Eric was her best friend, like an older brother. Although the thought of helping him lie to his parents turned her stomach, she couldn't bear disappointing him.

Then she groaned.

"Eric."

"Yes? You'll come with me? Oh Parminder–"

"Eric. I don't own dress robes."

The impromptu shopping trip was the most fun Parminder had had in the past year. Eric led her away from her desk and sweet-talked their way off duty. Linking arms, he whisked off on the smoothest side-along apparition she had ever known. Eric was a man of such perfect, casual grace, in every aspect of his life. It belayed his cruel talent with a wand. Parminder had never met anyone who could hex a man so brutally as her former partner, and certainly non-verbally. But that was part of what made Eric such a gifted duelist. Plenty of criminals had underestimated the pair of them, the slight Indian woman and the pretty boy. They’d all ended up in Azkaban.

Eric was excellent company, his quick wit assuaging any lingering guilt of leaving work early. He entertained her with office gossip as she leafed through dresses, his sarcasm teasing inelegant snorts of laughter from her lips. Hours slipped away from them, sipping on frou-frou coffee drinks and enjoying the Midsummers sun. Against all odds, they found a sunset coloured saree, complete with golden filigree. It spoke to Parminder on a spiritual level, and she tried not to feel guilty about dropping nearly three months’ worth of rent on a dress. It was spectacular, the crimsons and pinks and vermillions and golds worthy of belonging to the sunset of an airborne toxic event.

He’d lounged on her sofa while she straightened her hair and painted her face, amused by her muggle things and still photographs. At some point, he acquired a bottle of champagne, and they toasted the night ahead with a grim determination.

They arrived at the fundraiser at eight, arm in arm. Parminder turned and faced her partner, adjusting the collar of his designer robes and dusting off his shoulders. It was an old habit, a once over before going out to rid the world of dark wizards. He smiled at her, tweaking her nose. The ritual complete, she breathed in and took his arm once again.

"Fabulous as always, Eric," she teased. He grinned as she gently raised her saree, the golden links that connected an anklet to her painted big toe glittering in the light. Parminder rather appreciated the lack of painful footwear. Hopefully the ballroom was warm. Her parents would have been most upset at the magically applied Mehndi, but Parminder had only had a few hours, not a night, for the henna paste to dry.

"You clean up well, Parmy. One could also mistake you for a lady." He laughed as she punched his arm forcefully, but she grinned, looking at the great golden doors that lead to the Montague hotels that were to hold the event. She hated that they were holding an event for the Gigliotti– in addition to being blood elitists, they had their hands in all sorts of quasi-legal businesses, laundering gold and smuggling drugs and non-tradeable materials alike into England. And, if her suspicions were to be correct, they were connected to a certain increase in professional hits. It seemed amusing that the Auror in charge of this investigation was being touted as arm candy by another.

Perhaps this was a blessing. Eric led her into the gala, past sweeping statues of gold that cost more than her yearly salary. The hall held more chandeliers than she could count, with red crushed velvet and gold upon almost every surface. Crystal tables were laid out, sparkling in the light. Parminder tried not to gape. She had known the Gigliotti were wealthy, but this was something else.

"Where are your parents?" She leaned in to Eric, aware that he too was scanning the room, already preparing for spell-fire. She touched the wand concealed in her saree, comforted by the cherry wood along her forearm. They maneuvered through the crowd, Eric constantly being stopped by friends. Many raised their eyebrows at her, but Parminder simply smiled away.

"With the Minister, two o clock. My father has the vicar-cloak and my mother that dreadful fascinator," he whispered back in the guise of a sweet nothing. Parminder suppressed a grin, flicking her eyes to the place he described. There, her eyes found Minister Shacklebolt in conversation with a man in a severe black cloak. The fwooper feathers forming the woman’s fascinator were rather guache. Parminder was not displeased when Eric steered her in the opposite direction, towards the tables.

Along the way, it seemed, a floating candle in the shape of a seven had joined them. It bobbed ahead of them delicately, and it seemed to be guiding them somewhere. All around them, numbered candles were joining people and urging them to follow.

Their candle wove through the air lightly, before coming to rest on a circular table that seated six. Two other people had already seated themselves– one was a very old witch with midnight blue dress robes and the other a mature man in bottle green robes. Parminder quirked a brow as Eric helped her into her seat, suppressing a roll of the eyes with supreme difficulty. Introductions were made. The witch (Morgania) had been famously beautiful in her youth and now wrote award winning children's books. The wizard (Bernard) was an Obliviator and, like Morgania, a close friend of Emanuel Gigliotti, the patriarch of the family. Parminder was bursting with questions, but she dutifully bit her tongue, waiting for the rest of their table to join them and this uncomfortable dinner hosted by a thoroughly awful family to begin.

the skyline is burning red [ closed for SinfulSkills and El Taco Taco ]

The following is an interview with The Daily Prophet that Parminder Advani gave recently.

Interviewer: So, Parminder, how old are you and how long have you been with the Ministry?

Parminder: I’m 25 next week, and I joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement right out of Hogwarts almost eight years ago.

Interviewer: Wow. You were really young! How did you know you wanted to be an Auror at that age?

P: I’d known for years at that point. I grew up during the Second Wizarding War. I was fourteen when the Ministry fell and I went on the run from Snatchers. Richard Godfrey was smuggling me out of the country when we got ambushed. He died so I could escape. I swore that if I lived through the war, I’d do everything I could to make a safer England.

I: That’s really noble. So what is it exactly that you do with the Aurors?

P: I’m a master tracker. I have a way of finding people that don’t want to be found and I’m right sneaky. All those months on the run really helped hone my abilities.

I: It’s good to hear you’ve made the best of such a rough start. Okay, let’s get a little more personal. Can you tell us about your childhood before the war?

P: Absolutely. I’m muggleborn., obviously. My parents were a little uncertain about the magic thing, but they’ve always been supportive of me and my goals. My mum and dad are Doctors—muggle Healers—and they always pushed me to be great. I was a Gryffindor at Hogwarts. My little brother, Suresh, is my best friend. He’s apprenticed under Ollivander now and I couldn’t be prouder. I had a really happy childhood, even with the war.

I: Uh-huh. And what about now? What would you say your life is like?

P: (Laughs) So busy! I recently moved from Vice to Homicide and I’m pretty much never home. I make time to visit my family, but I’m usually at the office. I’m not complaining—it’s a real honor to have been trusted with this much responsibility and I’m happy to serve.

I: You were recently involved in helping take down the mysterious cult, Umbra’s Hand. Can you tell us anything about that?

P: I provided support, mostly. My boss, Pepper Averys, is the real hero. I learned a lot working with her and the Irish Aurors. I’m relieved we were able to stop them as quickly as we did. A lot of good people died. There's a monument to their sacrifice in the works and I'm really looking forward to seeing it. They deserve nothing less.

I: So, who’s your favorite person to work with in the department?

P: Oh, Eric Pucey, by far. He was my mentor when I first qualified. He’s my best mate and he keeps me sane when I get into a case.

I: What do you think of the rumors of his family’s ties to the Death Eaters?

P: The Wizengamot couldn’t find any proof, and even if they did, Eric is his own man. He’s put away a lot of bad guys and saved a lot of lives in the process. His whole family could be cannibalistic psychopaths, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Eric is a good man. I'm proud to be his friend.

I: You’re a loyal woman. Do you have anyone special in your life?

P: Not really. I’m really too busy to pursue anything at the moment.

I: Alright then. Why don’t we get back to you specifically. What would you say your strengths and weaknesses are?

P: Uh, I’m a total workaholic! (Laughs nervously) I can get pretty tunnel visioned when I’m on a case. It helps me catch dark wizards, but sometimes I forget simple stuff like eating or watering my houseplants. I’m a good cook, but I hate doing dishes. Even with magic, I let dishes pile up in the sink. It drives my parents crazy!

I: I think that’s all we have time for today. It was great getting to know you. I wish you luck with your caseload and your pile of dishes!

P: Thanks so much! It was lovely talking with you.