The Ministry Lies

[Eustacia Lancaster]

Obsidian Harbor was a popular location among the wizarding community of New Zealand, with its streets a constant bustle of magical men and women coming to and from the array of stores that lined its cobbled paths. But today, the bustle was more concentrated in one specific area of the harbor. The night before, a hooded figure had appeared by the docks, took a short walk toward the Leaky Cauldron, and conjured a fiery serpentine ring into the side of its building - branding it with the prominent mark of the Scitorari, circling the words The Ministry Lies. They had disappeared just as quickly as they had come, leaving only the smoking remains of their symbol. Everyone knew what the ouroboros meant in recent years. Not since the Death Eaters had such a strong group of people come together, united under a shared cause. The Scitorari were thriving, but there was always room to grow. With the fall of the Elementalists and the Ministry cracking down on their hunts and arrests, it was time to gather more attention and followers, reaching out further than they had before. There was strength in numbers, and that's what the upcoming event was all about. Recruitment of the like-minded, and opening the eyes of those who weren't.

Today, witches and wizards on their daily shopping routes were stopped outside the popular inn, awed and confused by the appearance of the smoldering snake. There was talk, quiet murmurs and questions, many of which were soon to be answered. First of the group to arrive at the scene was a woman in flowing black robes, adorned with a cloak that concealed the lower half of her face, and stark white hair gracing her cheeks. Eustacia was a familiar figure amongst the frequenters of the neighbouring Bleak Street. Her identity could not be compromised, and she doubted any who may have recognised her would out her, but she took the extra steps to alter the features that were visible.

Taking her position beneath the symbol of her cause, the witch raised the slender hawthorn staff she wielded, summoning from it a dark length of fabric that unfurled in the air behind her. The word "Necromancy" was embroidered across it in white, announcing the faction she lead. The other leaders had the option to bring their own banners as they appeared, along with the representatives of the factions who were leading the Brightstone recruitment. Though the Scitorari united under a common belief, each had their own ideas - representing those individually would gather them the most attention. Potions, Prejudice, Anarchy, each appealed to different people. Eustacia was ready to get the event underway. Raising her staff for a second time, she conjured a thick tendril of black smoke that curled its way into the air, taking the shape of a serpent that coiled into itself high in the sky for all across the harbor to see. The path had been paved.

Out of Character:

All are welcome and encouraged to participate in this event, both Scitorari and non-Scitorari members alike. Students are encouraged to post in the Brightstone topic during this weekend period. Members of the Scitorari should read this topic before posting.

 

[Sage Ottavi]

Sage had noticed the symbol as she'd walked home at four in the morning, and her own curiosity about it had driven her back to it the next day. Sage had begun to learn about the Scitorari but she'd never once considered signing up for it, she didn't much see why it was useful she didn't particularly hold any bad feelings towards the muggle or muggle born population, she didn't care about it, she didn't think about it, but she was with so little direction and it was due to her not so good grades that she was failing at getting a job in the field that she wanted and rather was interning for some magical magazine she had no interest in, she wasn't being paid and found it pretty awful, it didn't matter her years of experience, perhaps signing up and joining them would result in her managing far more, or using it as a means of pushing her own desires forward. Even just as something she could fill more of her hours with, though she didn't know all that much about it, about them and thus her curiosity had driven her to at least stand a little off to the side as the ouroboros hung high in the sky.

Sage knew very little about the groups but her interest in them had never quite peaked as it was now, perhaps it was because she would have no idea how to get involved with any of them, sending a letter to it didn't exactly seem like the right thing to do and not like it would actually be how it happened, she didn't know if she wanted to join but she was curious enough that she wanted to see. The brunette ran a hand through her hair with her eyes lingering on the woman who was stood under a strange banner with the words necromancer, she could figure out what this meant but Sage couldn't be certain of it. She pulled down her sunglasses and brushed down her clothes, she was wearing her usual smart work attire and decided to take a few steps forward, unsure of how much to approach and half waiting to see what would happen.
​

 

[Ioan Finch]

Ioan Finch wasn’t one of the first to arrive to Obsidian Harbour, but he eventually made his way there, the crowd a welcome sight. The man wasn’t entirely sure how the mark would be taken, but he knew that the Scitorari had waited long enough to strike. Today was about reaching a large number of individuals with as little trouble as they could manage. The Aurors had struck plenty, sending several Scitorari members to Azkaban, though thankfully, getting little information from those individuals.

With his hood covering his face, which was typical for him, the man entered Harbour. Though his face was cloaked in shadow from the hood, he’d taken care to ensure that his face was not his own. The effects wouldn’t last forever, but they would surely last long enough for this. Spotting the Necromancy sign, Ioan moved further into the Harbour. He’d had no intentions on carrying one or having any of his members carry one. For Ioan, this event was about gathering support for the Scitorari as a whole, and he didn’t care if individuals joined his group or the Blood Magic one or even the newest group. It was all about numbers to him. His particular faction required a more specific skill, and recruiting from this bunch would take more than just the quick minute long discussion that this event could offer. The individual would have to show not only a great deal of interest in potions but also quite a bit of adeptness as well if they planned on being more than an herbologist or ingredient procurer. So, he wasn’t too alarmed by his group’s low numbers though he could understand others desire to expand.

Ioan figured that anyone who passed the scrutiny of those who had chosen to be a bit more blatant about things would learn of his faction should they be proven to be trustworthy enough. And, anyone who didn’t pass that scrutiny would be none the wiser to who he was. Ioan wouldn’t be afraid to speak to anyone today, but he was also a bit busy keeping look out for the Aurors who were sure to arrive at some point. Having both a sign burned into a building with magical means and the Scitorari symbol blowing through the sky would leave little time for the Scitorari to do what they had come to do – expand minds and gather support.

 

[Tobiah Djordjevic]

Tobiah wasn't even from New Zealand and hardly frequented this space, but of course he found himself in Obsidian Harbour on an eventful day. The man's eyebrows lifted as he spotted an ourobouros in the sky. It was a common enough symbol, but in the wizarding world it had become synonymous with a specific group. The Scitorari. Tobiah had heard a little bit about them, but he really didn't know much. Moving closer, Tobiah's mouth moved as he read the sign. Necromancy. The word sent a shudder down his spine. Dead things should stay dead, at least that's what Tobiah believed.

Continuing forward, Tobiah's gaze fell on the Leaky Cauldron, reading those words. Now, that was something he could get behind. The man could remember easily enough how his parents had moved him from Durmstrang to avoid being expelled. No one had bothered to hear his side of things, listen to his story. Instead, the authorities had jumped to place the blame on him, telling him that he should consider himself lucky to avoid having his wand snapped. If the school could do that, he had no trouble believing that the Ministry was just as corrupt.

 

[Samuel Phillips]

Samuel's days were a repeated, simple and undisturbed routine that he knew from back to front at this point. At nine in the morning he turned the small sign on his shop door from closed to open, at noon he turned the sign back to closed for his lunch break, and at one in the afternoon he turned the sign back to open again for the afternoon rush. As he went through the trials and tribulations of the day he could turn his mind on autopilot, forget everything, his worries and more specifically his thoughts of Charlotte as he focused on serving customers and making small talk as he learned more about their lives and made it to closing time. It was almost mathematical, robotic in nature but that was what he loved most about it.

That day in particular had started like every other until Samuel noticed the unusual yet familiar symbol floating in the sky. It quickly captured his attention when he opened his store in the morning and he just as quickly attempted to brush it off but come lunch time his curiosity and the nagging image of it through his shop windows forced him to visit the source of it after picking up a takeaway coffee. The Scitorari were a group he knew of from skimming articles the daily prophet and though the part-veela did not know much about the group besides the blatant fact they caused the foundation of the wizarding world to shake ever so slightly he also knew that they were basically anonymous and that was part of the reason he arrived to where he assumed the event was. He watched from afar as he sipped from his coffee, eyeing up the wizards disguising their faces with cloth and somewhat reveling in how interesting this whole ordeal was making his day. He had not once considered joining the group but the idea of the ministry controlling wizards caused him to stay rooted on his spot so he could attempt to gather an understanding of why the Scitorari believed that and why they were holding the event in the first place.​

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[Fenris Lancaster]

Fenris apparated among the two leaders of the Scitorari, bearing a banner of the faction he was representing in Yevheniys stead, the young leader taking his position in the group leading the Brightstone Village movement. While not everyone was comfortable with publicizing their groups ideals - for some, it was necessary. It was true that perhaps the Ministry did not have concrete information on how many varied factions there were, the Anarcho-Magicians, and the Necromancers, weren't afraid. There was no point in hiding, and they could only recruit so many people without speaking about what they stood for individually, to achieve as a whole. Factions like Blood Magic and Necromancy were relatively obscure, or feared. It was difficult for them to rank up their numbers.

Spearing his banner into the ground, Fenris took a stand in front of it, his arms folded, and his face concealed by a charcoal hood with the scitorari symbol printed across the top. He was here both to educate the people of what the Scitorari stood for, and the eventual Ministry attention. While they were currently peaceful about the recruitment, he had hopes that the aurors came along looking for a fight. They could truly show the people that the Ministry were the real enemy.

 

[Adira Ater]

Adira was assisting her Grandmother by attending the Obsidian Harbor recruitment drive for the Blood Faction, she felt more like a girl scout selling cookies to people who wouldn't care but she had to support them as the next rank in charge of the Blood Faction. Brushing her long brown hair out of her face she approached the area, Banners were fluttering but she did not chose to bring one for her faction, instead she wore blood red clothes instead of her normal green and black.

Nodding towards Eustacia who was there and the other faction leaders she waited to see what would happen, no one seemed to be talking.

 

[Samuel Sykes]

Home again, sighed Samuel inwardly, trying not to drag his feet over the cobblestones. He loved visiting his adoptive parents, he really did, but this month's visit was more of a summons than an invitation. His mother was starting to get antsy about growing older, and the word 'grandchildren' had popped up more than once. He was sure to receive a proper grilling on why he hadn't found a lovely witch to give his mother grandkids, for certainly that was higher on her list of priorities right now than Sam's happiness. He frowned at himself at the thought, thinking himself unfair, and he'd distracted himself well enough to bump into the back of a bystander who didn't even notice.
"Merlin, I'm so sorry-" began the Australian, but he, too, fell into silence when he saw why the street was quiet. Banners. Hooded men and women, or at least he thought there was a mix owing to their shapes beneath their robes, held aloft their symbols and cast their Scitorari marks into the air or against walls, and no one was talking. Sam didn't like improper use of grammar, but in this case he would aptly describe the scene as surreal.

Everyone had heard of the Scitorari. 'Just like Death Eaters from the old days,' some said, but after a little reading, Samuel wasn't sure that was true. Some were former Death Eaters, of course, and some held similar ideals to the cult-like followers of You-Know-Who, but the Scitorari was split into sects, and one particular sect held Sam's morbid fascination.
As a potion's master offering his services in France to private buyers who wanted specialty potions made up or invented, he was no stranger to odd requests, but he'd had his foray into the darker nature of potions-making when brewing for the Koshiba family. Fortunately he managed to outlive his usefulness whilst staying alive, and he'd kept his nose clean since, but Merlin's tits, he wanted to know what they knew. How much knowledge was available to you when you had no moral boundaries separating you from your passions?

Samuel drew back from the quiet crowd gathering but stayed to watch. At the first sign of trouble, he'd be gone, but for now he wished to listen. He wouldn't be swayed by evil declarations or incitement, no sirree, but if he could just catch a whiff of the potions sect, who had no banner as far as he could see, his curiosity would be sated. Sam turned his eyes from the Necromancer's banner with a shudder. The dead should be left well alone, he decided inwardly. No good can come of it.​

 

[Sage Ottavi]

Sage continued just watching the people who arrived both around her and to the people and she was intrigued, why now had they decided to do this, what was important about this moment that lead them to being so forward with what they were, and yet still hiding. The woman wanted to know and so, she approached, breaking away from the slightly forming crowd as she walked over, fixing her skirt and flattening her shirt and she walked over to him. The former slytherin, looked between the people and noticed that only two banners were there, but if the way they stood meant anything it was more factions that that. She thought necromancer, having questions about what exactly that entailed, but it was then she noticed the far cuter boy who was standing with the Anarcho-magic banner and she wandered over to him, "So," she began as she moved to stand in front of him, "What exactly is this?" Sage asked him, hoping for more neutral ground to talk about things but her burning question coming out first, what was this, why was this happening, "What do you stand for?" she then added thinking that would be a good question to follow, after all, she actually was interested in what they all stood for, but for now she was asking him.
​

 

[Athena Zhefarovich]

Although she didn't look a little bit like herself - her hair was a dark brown under the long hood and her features were nearly the opposite of how she normally looked - there was one thing that the woman hadn't been able to disguise. Her swelling abdomen. At just past 6 months, Athena could not do much to hide it, though the thick robes that she'd chosen for the day helped somewhat. Staying away from the larger parts of the crowd, Athena caught the eye of her partner, someone who'd been designated to help her get away quickly should trouble arise. With a nod, she continued on, moving towards some of the people who hadn't joined the crowds or gone up to the others but who had remained to see what was going on. "If you're smart, you'll realize that the words written there are true" she said to a gentleman, not bothering to keep her voice down. She wanted everyone around him to hear. Even her voice sounded foreign, a simple charm that raised her normally husky voice an octave. "Think about it. Who gets to decide what potions you learn, what charms and transfigurations you practice? The Ministry. Who gets to decide what we must register for so that they can control us? The Ministry. We must wisen up so that future generations don't have to live under these restrictions that we do." They were here to change minds, to show that it was the Ministry that was making decisions for the people as if they were children that couldn't make decisions for themselves. Athena wasn't going to wait for people to come up to her, not when she could use her voice to reach several people at a time.

 

[Hercules Stone]

Hercules couldn't call it baby sitting; though technically that's what it was. Hercules chuckled at his own joke. The reason he wasn't with the leader of his group was he had volunteered to look after the pregnant lady. He was sure if he called it baby sitting in front of her, she'd rip him in half. So Hercules kept the joke to himself, something to get himself through a day he was sure would be boring. He felt sorry for Athena, he did; the things women had to go through. Hercules was incredibly glad he was born a man, he wouldn't be able to deal with things like pregnancy. It must be terrible for her to have to rely on someone else for her safety, just because she decided having a baby would be a good idea; which Hercules always suggested people not to do. The world was over-run anyway, it could do with a few years without any babies.
The man thought that the day was a bit of a waste, but would do whatever his leader told him to do which meant he was standing at Obsidian Harbour, his hood pulled over his head, and a bandana covering his mouth. He thought it would look awesome if he wore sunglasses as well, but Hercules also knew that he could have a very intimidating glare, so left his eyes open. If any Aurors decided to come along today, Hercules knew that he had to take care of Athena first, getting her away before he got to join in on the fight. It was a big sacrifice for him; he would love to get into a fight. But he knew his instructions that he was given for the day, so there he stood, his arms folded, his eyes narrowed and checking out the crowd; staying close to Athena, daring anyone to come and try and talk to him. A punch to the nose should suffice as an answer.

 

[Dallas Paterson]

It had been a slow day at the apothecary, and Dallas had decided to pop out for half an hour to go grab a coffee, and scone as a treat. She was able to wait to get back to dig into her scone, but couldn't resist the smell of hot coffee, and began to cautiously sip it on her way there. Of course she burnt her tongue a little, but it was worth it she felt. She was almost home when she saw a crowd growing beside the leaky cauldron. Curious Dallas wondered over to see what was going on. Usually the bar didn't get this busy until supper time. It was in crowded areas where Dallas appreciated being tall the most. She stood near the back of the crowd, and watched as people began to spout off about how the Ministry was lying, and secretly controlling everything they do. She also noted the banners, particularly the one that read necromancy. "What a pack of nutters." she said to no one in particular. Dallas figured some Aurors would show up, and shut down the whole spectacle rather soon, but there was no reason she couldn't enjoy the show while it happened. She only wished Aeon was here so they could make fun of it together.
​

 

[Fenris Lancaster]

The Scitorari were quiet, perhaps waiting to be fully assembled before they started to become more vocal - but they didn't have much time for that, and where was the Cardosi man? Late. Everyone else, including a heavily pregnant Mind member was present. The onlookers chattered amongst themselves, but one particular woman broke away from the crowd. It took a moment for the Lancaster boy to realise she was headed for him, surprised by how bold she was being. He briefly nodded to her in greeting once she had stopped, a small smile on his face as she questioned him. He had feared their group might scare people away instead of gathering their interest, but this event might not have been for nothing after all. "The Scitorari are tired of hiding, of being silenced by the Ministry and their lies. We're making our presence known, speaking up and spreading the word - why we're here, what we stand for. We refuse to sit by and allow the Ministry control everything we do." He began. "They don't allow us to reach our full potential. Our magic is a birth right, and they want to limit that. We want freedom from the Ministry's hold." Fenris finished, keeping an eye out on the crowd behind her as he spoke, waiting for a sign of the eventual auror intervention. So far, they seemed in the clear, but he was itching for a fight. "I stand for knowledge of all "dark" magic, that which they refuse to teach you in school, that which they restrict, leaving so many witches and wizards without proper defence. During the wizarding wars, sales of curse-deflecting merchandise went sky high because the people couldn't help themselves, because they didn't know how. If I have to fight for that, so be it. The Ministry are corrupt, they can't continue as they are. We don't need them." He turned slightly away from the girl, looking toward the other groups that were gathered under the mark. "We all have different thoughts on magic, but every faction stands for the same goal."

 

[Agatha Bathory]

Even from the narrow alleys of Bleak Street, the symbol of the Scitorari could be seen by anybody who took the time to look up. Agatha was one of these people, dark-ringed, sunken eyes gazing up at the twisted black serpent with some fascination. "My." She croaked to nobody in particular, except perhaps the raggedy crup that followed her loyally. It's forked tail flickered once in response. "Isn't that curious." She continued, thin fingers grasping at her short cane as she began to hobble from the street, toward the well-lit harbor ahead. It was not often that she ventured into Obsidian, but this was an occasion she did not want to miss out on. Her hands, wrinkled and spotted, dug into the open flap of her sack, withdrawing both a flask and a lengthy cloak of fine silk. Donning the cloak as she hurried along the alley, it's material concealing her tattered garb underneath, she fumbled to work off the flasks lid. Finally managing to do so, she took a deep gulp of its contents, small trails of liquid dripping messily down her chin. Now as the woman moved, she changed, her features softening, her skin smoothing out and its blemishes fading until they were no longer visible.

By the time the hag reached the light of the harbor, she was no longer the vile creature she had been. Instead, she was a beautiful maiden, with brunette curls that bounced with each step. She walked with a straight back, her cane now just a fashionable accessory. The woman approached the group that had gathered under the mark of the serpent, blending easily into the crowd of witches and wizards that looked upon the members of the Scitorari. They were an interesting band of people. Agatha was curious as to why they had gathered, and what they wanted.

 

[Calcifur Giordano]

They were in his way. The whole bloody lot of them, Scitorari and gawpers alike, were standing right on the footpath and on the street, waving their stupid banners and holding up his supply run. Calcifur's delivery wasn't exactly time-sensitive, but he hated having his routine interrupted, and his thunderous scowl was directed towards every single one of them without prejudice. A young man, and he knew they were young just by the sound of their voice, was standing proudly in front of an Anarcho-Magic banner being questioned by an even more painfully young person. He wasn't surprised to see college-aged men and women, but there were some serious oldies hanging about, and wasn't that just sickening? Who had time to go protesting at the age of?- Christ, one of them had to be over eighty if she was a day.

Cal was in a foul mood, so he probably made a bad decision by engaging one of them, but his package was chilled to protect the contents, tucked into his satchel as it was, and it was turning half his thigh into an icicle. He was pissed.
"Is any of this helping me get to work on time?" the New Zealander growled, flicking a hand dismissively at their banners. "The Ministry is all you say it is, but they rest of us have gotta feed and clothe ourselves. No one's got time to trade Unforgivables with the Ministry when they've got mouths to feed, and I ain't willing to put my life on the line just to muck around with magics that are of no interest to all but a few."

Cal would have empathised strongly with the Scitorari as a young man. He rather thought that if he'd fallen in with the right crowd, he would have been out there waving banners with them. The Ministry was scum, and if they had their way, he'd be marinating in prison for shilling, fencing and trafficking, but it was all he had to get by these days. He didn't care about causes anymore. His sister had been the last of his family and she was dead, now. All he had left were the jobs, and he couldn't even get that done without a bunch of yobbos protesting in the street. In some ways, he was envious of their conviction, and the weird, creepy sense of community they had. At least they had other people to be crazy with. Sh!t, he should probably leave before the Aurors or Hitwizards turned up.​

 

[Collineus Cardosi]

Being late was not something that Collineus Cardosi was fond of in the least bit. Taking care of his wife and his future heir, he left a loving note to them as he put on some black robes, and an emerald green cloak. He placed the hood on his head, and lowered it so much that it was impossible to see anything but his lips. The fabric was just thin enough for him to see out of, albeit not very clearly. The pure-blood leader apparated off to New Zealand, where the lands to him were not foreign anymore. His base was in Italy, but he controlled New Zealand's faction. They were staging an event, which he would represent his own faction there. Recruiting children was not something that he wanted to do, but some were graduating, and fresh, confused minds were easily molded. That was something that appealed to Collineus. Sure, he was prejudice, and very much like the former self he held, which was a past Death Eater. As he arrived, he looked over the group to see who all was present. He remained in the back, listening to others speak before he would have his word.

This was where he decided to step in. Collineus spoke, addressing the crowd, "And I am part of the Prejudice group. Let the name not fool you. We stand for something completely different. We believe that the Ministry keeping us hidden from the world has greatly diminished our limits of power. The Ministry should not allow us to hide any longer. We must find a means to live in a world with no limits of power, and to be who we truly are." Sure, that should be enticing enough. Collineus stepped over to Ioan, before lifting his hood up only so he could see that it was him. "How is it coming along?"​

 

[Sage Ottavi]

Sage wasn't that interested really in what the man was saying but she was interested in him and just listening along as she did, nodding her head to what he was saying and finding it oddly actually pretty interesting, his group she didn't think suited her, but she was beginning to think that man was actually pretty right, perhaps the fact she wasn't able to get a proper job was being hindered because of how she was with magic, how she hadn't learned enough, and she wanted to be better, do better, be better, just succeed. Perhaps this was the right choice for her, but definitely not him, although she definitely thought he was cute and was definitely interested in getting a drink with him after but for now, she was actually curious about what he had to say, "So you are, Anarcho-magic?" she asked pointing to his banner with a curious expression, before motioning to the others, as she had been about to complete her question a very formal man started speaking and she didn't think she was superior because of her blood, but she didn't exactly have the purest of bloods. Once he seemed done, Sage turned to back to the man she was talking to, and flashed a charming smile, flicking her hair over her shoulder, "Who are the others?" she asked, "What are the necromancers for? Do you know or should I be asking her?" the woman wanted to keep talking to him, and there was a hint in her tone that she wasn't quite done with him yet, "What time are you going to be finishing up at?" she asked, her intentions behind the question pretty clear, as long as he was willing she knew what she'd be doing that night.
​

 

[Aspara Tsvetkov]

Aspara rarely, if ever ventured into the magical parts of the country, since his work usually kept him very occupied he just didn't have the time to do that, and instead only visit when necessary, it had been after a friend of his had sent him an odd message saying he needed to get to obsidian harbour that he'd left what he was doing in the capable hands of his co-worker and had set off, citing that he had some family issues to get to, which people generally believed because Aspara spoke so little about it that the family issues had to be true and upon gathering his backpack and finding a place to apparate, went to Obsidian Harbour. The sight that greeted him was a smoke Scitorari symbol in the sky, he didn't know what they were doing or had done but it could never be a good thing, Aspara had to admit that while there were certain aspects of the group that he agreed with, he fundamentally disagreed with them, disagreed with how they did it, what they had grown out of and while they denied ever being supremacists functioned under a banner that spoke of the superiority of magic.

Aspara walked towards them, lingering towards the crowd, overhearing one man's complaint about what they were doing and then let his gaze settle on the Scitorari proudly stood under banners and spoke, the ministry lies in proud letters. Aspara noticed the anarchist banner and shook his head, god he hated anarchists. He noticed the divide people watching, and people talking, he was glad when a man older than Aspara was started addressing everyone, and Aspara listened along with everyone else, the man stepped away and it seemed like no one in this crowd was going to do the right thing, "Is be who you truly are code for blood supremacists who want to go back to the dark days of Voldemort where muggleborns were made to live in fear because of a trait they had been given, or even for keeping knowledge and power in the hands of the few pure elite instead of the ministry elite," he spoke clearly and loudly over the crowd hoping to get their attention, Aspara knew he was probably looking for trouble where he shouldn't be, but he could just stand there and say nothing, "The ministry might lie to us, but so do you. Go back to the shadows where you belong Scitorari scum,"
​

 

[Ioan Finch]

Ioan watched the crowd silently, noting those who seemed intrigued and those who seemed completely disinterested. Those were easier to tell. They either walked away, their heads shaking, or they voiced their opinions like the man who was talking about his job, the job that he probably could be making more money in if it wasn't for the Ministry keeping those galleons for their own benefit. Still, there were others who seemed to be listening to the small speech that the pregnant Scitorari member made, and he smiled to himself at her mention of his group. Ioan knew that the Ministry had many issues, and if these men didn't want to see that they were truly the problem, there was nothing that he could do for them. Lifting his head slightly, his 'face' now visible, Ioan shrugged his shoulders slightly. "It's hard to tell. The Ministry's influence runs deep. I think it will take more than this to make a lasting impact. This is a good start though" the man admitted, happy that there were at least some people moving closer to the table, not fearing the contempt of their peers. "And the Aurors are...running late" he smiled grimly, happy at their good luck at the Ministry's delayed reaction to this event.

 

[Eustacia Lancaster]

Ioan, Fenris, Adira, Athena and Collineus. The leaders and the representatives of each faction had all gathered together, and a few of the other scitorari's followers had joined them, even the pregnant Mind Conqueror was helping sway the crowd in their favour. They could move forward and promote their goals. The Necromancer was pleased to see that already, some of the onlookers had questions and showed interest, one woman in particular so boldly approaching her grandson. What came as a surprise was the defiance of the few, simple civilians who dared to insult the Scitorari. A simpleton appeared angry and impatient, and the Lancaster woman paid him little attention, but there came yet another voice, a youth who accused them of lying, who may have thought himself courageous, but was an ignorant fool. He did not understand what they stood for at all. "Be silent, insolent child." Eustacia muttered quietly, twisting her staff and non-verbally casting a silencing charm in the vocal boy's direction. It was difficult for the former Death Eater to stand by and allow such slander against her and her people. If they weren't trying to gather more followers, she'd have brought them to their knees, writhing in the pain of an unforgivable curse.

"It appears some of you are content with being manipulated by the Ministry of Magic. That is a pity." The Necromancer spoke up, stepping forward to address the public. "We are not your enemy. We stand for truth and knowledge for all witches and wizards. Can you all say with absolute certainty that the Ministry has been honest, that they don't withhold information, keep the secrets of magic to themselves? They wish to exert control and limit our powers, disallow us from using magic to it's full potential. So much has been lost to us, and there are many secrets left to unlock. The great mysteries of magic; time, space, love, thought, death, remain exactly that - a mystery. Why should we allow our abilities to be stunted when we can move forward and grow, together." She spoke clearly, her voice carrying across those who had gathered. Surely the majority of people could see sense. The blubbering fools who couldn't weren't worth the Scitorari's time. They could perish for all the woman cared, they'd serve a greater use among the undead. There was no room in the world for stupidity.

 

[Calcifur Giordano]

More people were gathering, and since Calcifur had said his piece without effect, he had to start elbowing through the crowd. He hadn't exactly expected people to start moving out of the way for him, but he also hadn't counted on more people arriving. He was ready to start reducto-ing people out of the way when a young man raised his voice against the Scitorari, giving him pause. While Cal wasn't exactly anti-Scitorari-prejudiced-muggle-hating-jerksquad, he agreed with everything the kid was saying, and he fought the urge to yell 'Hear, hear!' in support. He may have been depressed and grouchy, but he didn't have a death wish.

Or perhaps he did, because there was more talk amongst the crowd and Scitorari. The older woman under the Necromancer's banner turned upon the young man and bid him be silent. She had no wand on her but she inclined her staff, and without hesitation, Cal's wand was out and he was casting a Shield Charm between her and the vocal onlooker.
The trafficker's instincts were right when he felt, not heard, a spell collide with his shield and dissipate harmlessly. From the feel of the magicka, it was fairly benign, but by God it was powerful. His arm shuddered, and Cal withdrew his wand hand protectively, hoping that no one had caught the source of the shield. It was dangerous here, and he had no intention of sticking his thumb into that crazy pie. Still- no one was looking out for those in protest of the Scitorari. Hitwizards were nowhere to be found, and no one was protecting the crowd if things got ugly. Cal didn't have a hero complex, but he couldn't just walk away.

Sh!t. ****. Bollocks. Okay, maybe he did have a death wish, but he was going to stay. Some of the onlookers were barely out of their teens. If he had to stick his old man's neck out into the firing line to watch out of them, so be it.​

 

[Aspara Tsvetkov]

Aspara did not know what to expect in return, but he knew from the look of the older woman that she had not much appreciated his statements, and was startled when his gaze so focused on the woman meant he hadn't noticed that she had cast a silent spell until the man beside him cast a shield and the socialist glanced at him and gave a smile of thanks, and proceeded to realise that perhaps he would need his wand. He reached around into his rucksack as the elderly lady began speaking and he listened carefully while rummaging around until his fingers brushed the familiar and warm wood of the wand he'd bought after he'd left the community. The young activist kept his gaze on her and shook his head, the statements sounded enticing, they sounded good, they sounded like something that would appeal but he knew better than to buy into something that was as much a cult as his old community had been. He knew that abilities could be stunted by someone by a group of people who were supposedly a little superior but he believed these people as little as he believed them.

"How can any of us believe that you will be true to your word?" the man returned not losing his nerve or drive, he knew the ministry lied, he wouldn't be surprised if they kept the knowledge of certain things to themselves, "How can you assure any of us, that you would free the knowledge and share it amongst the general magical populace," he essentially repeated his first point, "If the Scitorari was so good why do you not share what you know already, why must we look in the shadows to find you, why do your members murder and harm those who disagree, why do so many people fear you," Aspara was sure he was perhaps playing with fire but he was fighting them because he had to, that was his principal, his duty, "You do not stand for freedom, you do not stand for the people, you are no better than the government you say you want to bring down," Aspara didn't believe that the way forward was the scitorari, they were the last move this magical place should take, no better than the death eaters before them and absolute no interest in freeing the working class from their chains, just replacing them with new ones.
​

 

[Fenris Lancaster]

The audacity of some of the audience members was astounding, but despite the disturbances, Fenris' attention was on the woman in front of him, attracted by her confident approach. The others could deal with, or ignore the men who were speaking out. They were a small few, and unimportant. It wouldn't be long before the real trouble started. The highlight of the event was the prospect of potentially being able to stir up the Ministry's dogs and getting the chance to engage them in a fight, but if he could recruit at least one person, it would be a definite bonus. She pointed toward the banner the wizard had brought with him, and he nodded his affirmation once more. She appeared to want to say more, but the group was joined by the final Scitorari leader - Cardosi of the Prejudice faction, or whom he could only assume it was. It was difficult to tell under their concealments. The man finished, and Fenris turned his attention back to the witch he stood with. She had more questions, and he was happy to answer. "Anarcho-Magic, Prejudice, Necromancy and a handful of others. We have a diverse range of factions within the Scitorari. The Necromancers, in summary," He turned his gaze toward the white haired sorceress the woman had queried about. As a descendant of the Necromancer, he could speak quite in depth about her faction. "Study Death, from animating the deceased, to finding a way to restore, lengthen, or immortalise life. They research into mortality and what is beyond." She could have asked herself, but Fenris wanted to keep her around a while longer. "I was expecting an impromptu date with the Ministry, but they're running late. If you're happy to stick around for a little while longer, we can...discuss things in further detail."

 

[Ioan Finch]

Having heard word that the other part of their demonstration had begun to be bothered by the Scitorari, Ioan pulled a vial from his pocket and dropped it to the ground below him. He crushed it with the heel of his boot, yellow smoke pouring from it to announce that Aurors were somewhere. The man moved forward through the crowd, knowing the Aurors would appear in the outskirts of it. He had another signal for when he had actual sight of one.

 

[Jesiah Howell]

Word of what was happening in Brightstone and Obsidian Harbor had reached the Auror department, and its team had been dispatched to both locations, forced to spread out. It was not an ideal situation, but it was all they could do. So far, there was no indication of any attacks on the public, but given the terrorists history, it was only a matter of time. They couldn't take any risks. Apparating to the populated harbor, Howell withdrew his wand, wasting no locating the crowd gathered around the Scitorari influence. As he approached, a strange smoke rose from the location, but he paid it little heed. "Everyone, disperse." The wizard ordered, hoping the public would co-operate. They did not understand the danger they were in. "I don't know what this is, or what kind of game you think you're playing, but it stops now." He demanded, addressing now the hooded figures while his eyes scanning over those present, but it was no use. No one was letting their identity known that easily. "Leave."