Morcant Nott. - Blog Posts

where: ancestor's lanterns release, samhain festival, hogsmeade when: evening with: open

Morcant really hoped the departed people didn't have access to it beyond the veil. If they did, he was fucked. His heartfelt message to his grandfather, Cantakerous Nott, was along the lines of: "Dear grandfather, thank you for being an even worse paternal figure than my father. No wonder he is a raving lunatic, having you as his father. You are the one who sullies the noble and ancient name of the Nott family. I hope you rot in hell for the entire eternity. Fuck you. A big middle finger, your grandson."

He sighed in relief when the lantern was flying too high to be caugh, and hoped no one saw it. He was about to leave, when he stumbled on someone.

"Oh, pardon me. Sorry, are you okay? I hope I didn't damage your lantern." He asked politely, knowing the ceremony could be a hard time for some people.

Morcant was, after all, a Nott. A snobby, arrogant, stuck-up nose pureblood. He was self-aware of that, and he wasn't about to lie to himself and say he didn't have a reason to be. He was all of that, simply because it was owed to him and his legacy.

That said, all he felt was contempt and disgust. It took all of him to act like a gentleman, supress what he really felt and try to have fun. His entire life, Morcant always believed that you get more flies with honey, than vinegar. It wasn't like him to express what he truly felt, even if all he wanted to do now was bitch about it.

"Well, a single corridor in the Nott Manor has more cursed artifacts than this. Come on, Lucius. We both know that we came here for a comedy exhibit, especially if some stupid kid tries to rob it." He sighed, imagining the scene. "That would be a good laugh, wouldn't it?"

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂: open | 𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽: zonko's, cursed artifact exhibition

a  slender  finger  slides  along  the  sleek  marble  of  the  countertops  before  him,  already  coated  with  a  thin  layer  of  dust  for  special  affects.  lucius  could  tell,  even  to  the  naked  eye,  that  the  so  called  cursed  artifacts  scattered  around  the  joke  shop  were  also  jokes.  pieces  of  plastic  disguised  as  actual  artifacts  hidden  around  the  wizarding  world.  ❝  they  have  to  know  they  aren't  fooling  anyone,  ❞  lucius  says  aloud  to  no  one  in  particular.  ❝  although  it  would  be  quite  the  event  if  someone  were  to  try  robbing  this  place  for  a  piece  of  junk.  ❞

Odin had a great time at playing catch with the baby dragons and the baby thestral today. Morcant couldn't help but feel like a proud dad watching his antisocial son making friends, except his son had the spirit of an eighty year-old grumpy grandfather.

"They are cute, but I guess it's an acquired taste." Morcant's laugh was soft, silence settling in for a few moments. He liked Narcissa, her steadiness somehow made him few at peace. It was like someone created a bubble in space-continuum where his duties and worries disappeared. "He had a great time today, work has been demanding. There's a lot of unstable magical energy these days, he's talented at keeping my aura balanced, but it takes a lot out of him. I'm glad he had fun today. The dragons are fantastic, though. Congratulations."

open !  where : thestral night flight .

narcissa had been waiting by the side of the line with the thestrals that were grazing in the grass, she smiled down at the little babies grabbing the treats that she seemed to always carry on hand for the baby dragons. grabbing them out of their pocket they reached a hand out for the baby thestral to take thumb rubbing it's forehead. "honestly, they're very cute creatures." she says looking up, "if you can't see them there's a baby right here." she didn't know if she actually wanted to go on the ride, but this was a far enough place away from her mother and father who were undoubtedly searching for her.

"Well, Hogwarts is a game of survival, each day is just a shot in the dark." Morcant rolled his eyes, bitterly thinking about the utter lack of order in that dump. "I hear there's centaurs around here, as well. I would really love to know more about their society and government structure. Do you think they have a democracy, or that is it more an anarchy? Anyway, I think they probably keep the acromantulas in check, their fangs would make fantastic weapons. At least that's what I would do if I was a centaur." He babbled, not really excited about the whole prospect of the ride. "I'm not entirely sure about the ride. Disfigurement by acromantulas doesn't fit my aesthetic for today."

open ! where : haunted hayride .

"now riddle me this, all throughout the year we are literally forbidden to go into the forbidden forest and now we're just taking hayrides driven by creatures we can't see where the forest is probably full of more creatures we can't see! i know there's acromantulas in there! i've seen them in our textbook! it can't be safe — let's hitch a ride." the second she said it, mary was hopping on the cart with their hand out to help the other person in, if they dared.

It was a silly little thing, really. Odin, his black kneazle, had a morbid curiosity towards thestrals. Morcant's familiar tended to be a stern and proud creature, but the omen of death brought out a completely different side to him. The kneazle could see and feel magical aura, so he was invaluable during Unspeakable missions, and he rarely allowed himself to behave like a... Well, cat.

Even if he truly wasn't one, and merely thinking about Odin as a cat would offend his familiar, but thank Salazar he didn't know Legilimency yet. It was just a matter of time, though, Morcant was sure. Kneazles would still rule the world, Voldemort wouldn't stand a chance against them. Just look at their paws.

"Well, not really. I'm just here to indulge the child. It's not like I can say no to him. Odin has a morbid curiosity towards thestrals, maybe it's because he sees magical aura. Thestrals are truly unique creatures. Well, are you? Getting a ride?"

𝑶𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 | 𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑭𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

The first time Frank had seen one, he was just shy of his sixteenth birthday and had wandered toward the carriages—he had almost gotten into one when he stilled completely. The black leathery horse-like creature peered at him, looking at him as if he had done it countless times—it wasn't the kind of beauty that Frank had been privy to, not until he lost his father.

Even tonight, lanterns lit the pathway as people gathered around - the thestrals were just as beautiful and in a way, the grief was just as raw, even after all these years, but it didn't consume him like it once did. feeling a presence next to him, "are you going for a ride?" a small smile stretching his lips as he looked over.

"Mrs. Parkinson, it's great to meet you. The festival looks much better now that you're here." Morcant smiled courteously to Bryony, as if they didn't grow up in the same social circles their whole lives.

There was a playful undertone underneath all the politeness, of course. It was interesting to see his childhood friend as a married woman. But, then, that was probably his fault for not having settled down yet.

"I don't believe I'm the best person to have an opinion on tapestries, since the only tapestry I truly remember is the Nott's family tree tapestry. But I do enjoy the Yuletide spirit, it's my favorite." Morcant said, settling comfortably beside her.

Who: Bryony & Open Where: Samhain Festival, Market Stalls

Bryony had thought long and hard how her re-entrance back into society post-wedding would go, and it hadn't been this damned festival. They were supposed to attend a gala last weekend for one of the many charities she helped out with, but of course, she had been sick and they couldn't attend. And now her husband goes and tells her at the last minute that he would join her later, that something had come up. She was not pleased but she was unwilling to sit at home for another weekend. So here she was, hoping he would come and find her before it was too late.

"The holiday may be over tomorrow, but the season will go on for a while. It wouldn't be particularly tacky to keep this up, would it?" Bryony mused to the person beside her, showing them the tapestry that she had been looking at.

Morcant didn't consider himself someone particularly cruel, especially considering some of the people he knew. However, he did have a little bit of a... Twisted sense of humor. How could one blame him, honestly, when the opportunity presented itself right in front of him?

"Well, that's unfortunate. I do believe kneazles eat toads, and Odin has a very peculiar palate." Morcant replied, raising the corner of his lips into a discrete smile. Odin was his familiar, a loyal and stern black kneazle that was trained to accompany him during missions. The beast in question eyed him with an impatient look, as if he was saying 'Are you serious? I have a better taste than that'.

Of course, the Diggory didn't have to know that...

where: samhain festival, hogsmeade when: evening with: open

"I don't suppose you've seen a loose toad hopping around here, have you?" Atticus asks with a sigh, straightening up from the stall he'd been peering under, "One of the choir girls has lost hers, and she's quite upset. He's about so-big, particularly lumpy, answers to the name Kenneth?"

MORCANT ELDRITCH NOTT — the chain-breaker

"When robbed of options, go feral. I refuse to abdicate of my duties as the Nott heir, even if father does not care about it anymore. Whatever happens after this, it will be for a reason."

MORCANT ELDRITCH NOTT — first of his name

AMBITIOUS — You take what is yours by right, but your eyes always hunger for more. Does that make you GREEDY, or is it simply that you know what the world owes you? DETERMINED — You persist, no matter the obstacles in your way. But when your ears refuse to hear other's advices, it's nothing more than STUBBORNNESS. INSIGHTFUL — You see the bigger picture, reading the currents of every situation. Yet, when you refuse to take action, some would just call you INDIVIDUALISTIC. RESOURCEFUL — Always CLEVER with what you need at your fingertips. But when that need twists into something more, can it still be called resourcefulness, or is it just plain MANIPULATION? CONFIDENT — It's just another name for a GOD COMPLEX, and you know it, don't you? BALANCED — When your father screams at you and you should have been crumbling down. Is it PATIENCE or is it PRIDE, because they can't see you break? COMMITTED — Because even the ones with the LOOSEST MORALS can also be LOYAL, and you know that only monsters can love other monsters.

“I really want to kiss you.”

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