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Your Local Mailman
#1
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February 24, 1890 — Djura Crossbridge's Residence
@Djura Crossridge
Most of the time Josiah hardly saw the people he delivered mail to beyond the occasional greeting. Most of the people in Irvingly knew that Josiah was a shy man and did not press him too much to be social with them. When it came to wealthier people, he hardly ever saw them at all, usually dealing with their staff instead if he absolutely had to talk to them about something. He usually only did this when it came to large packages that would not fit into a mailbox.

As was the case today. Though there was the added warnings of 'Fragile' and 'Danger' on the package which was more than a little alarming. Knocking on the door of the home of Djura Crossridge, Josiah fully expected a staff member of some sort to come handle the piece of mail that Josiah very much wanted to be rid of.




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#2
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Seated in his favourite armchair in the drawing room and nearing the final chapter of the book he was reading, Baron Crossridge glared daggers towards the tradesman's entrance as a knock went unanswered. Djura did not abide by tardiness, and he would be having words with his staff. But for now he'd have to sort it out himself, and with the air of a large lion disrupted from sleep, Djura got to his feet and went to answer the tradesman's door himself, silver cane clunking alongside him.

The willowy lad on the other side of the door was evidently a postal worker, though the Baron had never before set eyes on him. In any other circumstance Djura would have been glad to know his existence, for he understood the wizarding community used magical owls to deliver their post, and that was something Djura resented. But he was disrupted from his peace, and the postman was bearing a package clearly marked danger, and so he regarded the lad with ill will.

"What is this?"


[Image: djura-sig.jpg]
#3
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Josiah was oblivious to the other mans ill will and so he smiled - kindly but shyly - as he waited for the man to take the package. He did not socialize very often and so did not often read the cues. Plus, he was rather focused on doing his job which consisted of delivering said package to the person it was addressed to. "I would not know sir, it is mail sent to a Baron Djura Crossridge. I do not snoop in the people's mail, I just deliver it." His words were honestly given with no malice or bent out of shape pride within them. "Is the master of this house truly a Baron? I have never met one." He had no idea the man he was speaking to was the baron in question.



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#4
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Despite the tall fellow's sweet countenance and courtesies, Djura gave him a long, hard look at the words about "a Baron", not altogether trusting of his naiveté. Was he surely looking at Djura, well-dressed and dominant, and assuming him a servant? The Baron, still in a dark mood from being interrupted from his peace, did not dignify such impudence with an answer.

But they had to get to the bottom of the mysterious parcel, and so Djura opted to remain in the working man's presence for now. "Evidently, a parcel so marked is not going to be blindly opened. Who is it from?" Either someone had handed it directly to the postman, or he'd been given a return address in case of calamity. Either way, Djura would have answers.


[Image: djura-sig.jpg]
#5
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"Not all senders give their return address and I did not come into it directly since it was sent from elsewhere so it isn't local," Josiah said, uncomfortable with having to talk so much. Whoever this man was, he struck Josiah as quite rude though he supposed anyone would be with such an ominous package. Josiah did not deal well with people who struck him as mean-natured - hell, he didn't deal with with people in general - and he wanted to leave as soon as possible. But conscience found him sticking by to help solve the mystery. "Have you any distant friends with odd senses of humor?" His kid brother would do this sort of thing was why he was asking.
#6
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"All my friends are distant", Djura replied stonily. "And humourless."

Whether or not this was in fact intended as a humorous comment could be left up to the interpretation of the young postman.

Djura sighed, then give an elegant wave to indicate the boy follow him inside. "Bring this through to the drawing room and I'll open it. Best you're in attendance in case you need to report an incident to your employer."


[Image: djura-sig.jpg]
#7
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"You all must have great fun at parties," slipped out before Josiah could stop it and so his cheeks flushed. "I mean no offense."

And for his accidental cheek, the least he could do was listen to the older man. He brought the package into where the older man indicated for him to go."I am sure it is nothing," he tried to assure. After all, the box had been still between them for a while and nothing had happened.




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#8
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The tall young man made a quip, and, despite said man's shyness, it was a brave one. Djura looked at him stonily. He dared make fun of a Baron's friends? Not that the postman had figured out that Djura was the Baron in question...

Very much against his better judgement, Djura could not resist a shadow of a smile. Rude though the postman's comment had been, it was an amusing one.

But then it was time for the main event. He picked up his letter-opener to cut the strings from the parcel — though froze at it suddenly wriggled. Djura frowned, then got it over with, thrusting back the lid of the parcel to reveal —

A smooth ball of solid iron. Upon finding itself free of its binds, the ball launched itself wildly into the ceiling and crashed uproariously into the chandelier.


[Image: djura-sig.jpg]
#9
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Josiahs cheeks flushed in mild shame as the man looked at him stonily. He relaxed somewhat when the man seemed to be smiling. He couldn't really tell, honestly.

Josiahs brows knitted in confusion as the parcel wriggled and then a ball that looked to be made of some sort of iron flew up into the ceiling. "I think its that bruiser or something of the sort," he said, ducking away from it. "A wizarding ball." That was about all he knew about it.




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#10
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Djura, who was not only crippled but also getting on in years, oft yearned for the days when he too was a healthy young man like this one — but apparently all this healthy young man could do was stand there uselessly and theorise as to what the ball was. Currently Djura didn't care what the thing was; only that it was in the process of smashing his home.

With a heavy frown, Djura tossed his cane aside, faced the "bruiser" head on, and when it turned to plummet itself at him, he caught it hard in the torso — "oof" — wrapped his arms tight about it, and glanced around breathlessly. "Open that chest!" he barked at the postman, nodding towards a large, steel-bound chest by the fireplace.


[Image: djura-sig.jpg]
#11
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Josiah immediately moved to the chest the man had indicated and threw it open. His brain finally got into gear and he moved to help the man get it into the trunk. It seemed intent on escaping and Xavier wondered if these balls were sentient. He had seen his muggleborn brother with living books, after all.
#12
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The wild ball was about to slip from his albeit strong grasp when the postman came to his aid, and together they wrestled it into the chest and slammed it shut.

Somewhat breathless, Djura grabbed his cane and used it to get himself to his feet; but he was still frowning down at the chest, which was shaking angrily.

In a low voice, the Baron voiced his theory. "Until evidenced otherwise, I think it is safe to assume this was a hateful prank performed by some wizard who disapproves of normal people living in Irvingly."


[Image: djura-sig.jpg]
#13
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Josiah quirked an eyebrow at the Barons theory. Considering Irvingly was a Muggle settlement, that wizard was doubly in the wrong, he felt. "They were wrong to do so in the first place. And if that is their reasoning, even more so as Irvingly was established when myself and several others settled here." He remembered it so clearly - the trek from Dundee to here, encountering wizards for the first time, reaching the agreement with the Minister of Magic and the town proper being constructed.

"It seems people are forgetting why Irvingly was founded in the first place." Which saddened him as it had been meant to be a place for them, the originating muggle families, to establish a new livelihood alongside wizards. "I could look into this for you, if you like?" As postman, he had slowly gotten to know even more of the village albeit mostly the muggle side since the wizards had their own postal system.



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#14
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Djura was aware that Irvingly had been founded on a spirit of peace and unity between wizards and normal people, but he was also aware — from experience — that there were plenty of wizards who looked down on those who didn't possess the daft little sticks they called magic wands.

Some part of him found the young man's philosophising interesting, given how meek he'd been so far — it just went to show that even the local postman cherished values and a moral compass. Djura nodded when he said he could look into it. "Yes: do."

Just then, the Butler finally showed up, perhaps alerted by the ruckus in the drawing room. A tall man with a thin white beard, the usually highly composed Butler looked somewhat flustered as he entered the room. Djura looked at him coldly. He'd get his excuses later.

"A thousand apologies, your Lordship", said the Butler, bowing before looking around the trashed room in mild alarm. "Have this mess tidied", Djura replied curtly. "And tip the postman", he added after a moment's decision. The Butler obligingly approached the interloping postal worker and gave him a small handful of silver.


[Image: djura-sig.jpg]


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