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Post by THE ELDER WAND on Jul 23, 2014 15:42:31 GMT
 MAGIC IS MIGHT
AMY Turnstone - STALL OWNER
To the east of the clearing sat several logs and small bonfires. It was a secluded spot, where wizards could rest and wait for the evening to start. Several smaller bonfires burned brightly in this area. Amy had been commissioned with the job of selling refreshments including butterbeer, firewhiskey and the ever growing popular muggle marsh mellows. For a few sickles you could buy a pack of muggle shaped marsh mellows to melt over the bonfires. They would sell like hotcakes.
MAGIC IS MIGHT You may claim 5 house points for taking part in this thread. You may post this as a roleplay post with as many replies as you like.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 23, 2014 21:10:36 GMT
The official parts of the great event were finally over. The moment when he sauntered over to the stalls and finally purchased his first firewhiskey tonight could not have come soon enough. Having done his job tonight, he, just as all the others, was allowed to, as the superiors had phrased it, 'drink until down'. Not very original - he did that on far too regular a basis. He had not bothered to find out whether or not the Ministry had ensured free drinks for Death Eaters and their employees - he had known the stall owner would give him what he wanted for free. She wouldn't want her stall closed down, or worse. Not that Thorfinn would have made that happen; but she didn't have to know that, now, did she? His first glass had disappeared quickly, almost instantly. The second one was a treat of one of the newly recruited Death Eaters ( yes, Thorfinn had let the newbie actually pay, winking at Amy in the process) who, apparently, was amazed at how he had handled capturing a young mudblood couple just outside London. It had not been a particularly gruesome case, but it had not been nice, either, since the girl had tried to run and, when he stupefied her, had fallen onto broken bits of glass and lost an eye. Thorfinn could not have tried healing magic on her, having already met up with a fellow snatcher who was all gleeful at the prospect of bringing in 'mudblood scum' in such a mangled state. Really, I've no idea what's so fascinating about that one. I've done much better. Actually, he'd meant worse - and he had been stupid enough to say those thoughts out loud. So, the newbie recalled some of that 'better' - describing it all vividly - and before he knew it Thorfinn was taking his fifth (he supposed?) glass from Amy, seeking for a way to get rid of the damned fool and aware of the fact a simple charm he'd managed to use to make him rush to the bushes to do his business would not keep him away forever. Swaying on his feet a bit as he turned from the stall, he didn't even have time to deduce where he was going next before he bumped straight into someone and spilled half his firewhiskey all over...her. Obviously, a her; he caught himself staring at her ample bosom. Fancy that. What a nice distraction from all the torture and murder business. Her attire seemed strange, though...ah! A nurse. Wait, he thought as his eyes finally managed to reach her face, I know her. She's the nurse at...Hogwarts, that's it. When he had last visited Piper, he'd caught a glimpse of this woman in Hogsmeade, though the circumstances were rather vague. Some said she was too soft on the wrong people. Is probably why she hasn't poisoned the Carrows yet. Hah. He doubted his sources had meant it that way. Her name slipped his mind now and he decided that it did not matter - he'd find out soon enough. She was pretty - or he was drunk, but it did not matter. She was here, and she was certainly not going to be interesting in how he had tortured muggles...he hoped. But, right now, there was his whiskey spilled all over her uniform. What a perfect way to hit on her, eh? "Sorry 'bout that." He tried his most disarming grin with her, looking into her eyes, " Let me buy you the next round?"tag: Antonia  |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2014 19:55:58 GMT
 There was a certain tension in the air as the students of Hogwarts gathered to take their portkey to the Ministry's chosen destination. Antonia was on duty at the event and would be on call the entire evening encase any of the students were to have an accident. She would be surprised if she made it through the night without having to attend anyone. With the duelling event, which some of the older students had signed up to and the Slytherins throwing their weight about, she was certain she would not escape the night without seeing a bloody nose...or two.
She arrived with a small group of Hufflepuffs, who shuffled anxiously off to explore the stalls. She stood for a moment, her dark eyes scanning the scene apprehensively. Already the clearing was filling up and the atmosphere was electric. Wizards and witches greeted each other laughing and eagerly awaiting the announcements to come.
Antonia made her way through the groups of people, pausing to look at the signs that plastered several notice boards. The posters were appalling, a lot depicting muggles in their 'rightful' place. With a grimance she made her way toward the refreshment stalls, at least she could have a butterbeer to warm her anxious heart.
She waited patiently in line, watching a group of snatchers across the clearing. There was something about snatchers that made her uncomfortable, it was just their profession, but there was something completely untrustworthy about a person who hunted and captured people of their own accord for their own personal gain. She shivered, crossing her arms protectively, she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another.
A moment later she was almost knocked off her feet as the man that had stood infront of her turned and walked straight into her. She looked down as his drink soaked into her pristine white uniform. Wonderful, she thought angrily, looking up at the man who'd clumsily walked into her.
Her expression changed from one of anger to one of fear within seconds. There was something about his dark apperance that made her somewhat nervous and she found herself trying to work out why exactly she reconised his face.
She looked down at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with him despite the fact that he was speaking to her. 'No thank you' she responded dryly, 'I think you've done quite enough...'
432 WORDS TAGGED - Open NOTES THANK YOU MALIA TATE FROM ADOXOGRAPHY |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2014 21:26:42 GMT
OOC: I wrote this as if he'd misheard her and thought she was saying he'd had enough to drink.
He laughed at her words- though he was not yet as completely intoxicated as to find everything funny. It was incredibly bold of her, trying to lecture him, though. Few would have dared, even amongst his fellow ...comrades(damn, what poor wording – maybe she was right and he had had more than he'd thought). Naturally, if this had been any of them, he'd have either hexed them or beaten them to a pulp. Or not to a pulp, but roughed them up a little bit. A girl can always get away with anything.
„You've got it all wrong, ma'am.“ Considering her evident shyness, he guessed it was more appropriate than darling or sweetheart or whatever one called a woman he intended to sleep with by the end of the night. Although he had said it rather mockingly and he wondered if she'd take offense. Well, she shouldn't. Why'd he call her 'ma'am' and be serious about it, for heck's sake? „I haven't had nearly enough.“ Indeed. He could say he had had enough when he passed out and not a moment sooner; „Don't worry, though – I can postpone that bit for a while. So, what're you having?“
He did not even bother to acknowledge her refusal, instead turnign towards the stand and pushing the current customer out of the way, „'Ey, Amy!“ He leaned against the stand to wink at her again, only belatedly remembering that it might not have been as smart a move if he intended on having fun with the nurse. Oh, well. He guessed his charm would get him past that. And if not, there were always more fish in the sea, were there not?
„Mind getting a drink for this lovely lady here and putting it on my tab?“ There, he said she was a lovely lady. And he definitely was more drunk than he'd thought. Nothing I can't handle. After all, he was very much used to it.
Amy nodded her head and smiled at him, looking at Nurse(huh, he guessed he'd call her that for a while) as she waited for her order. Her smile seemed different when she met her eyes and Thorfinn wondered what she was trying to communicate. Had he been more sober, he might have noticed Amy's look was rather sympathetic. This way, he did not have any wish to dwell further on it; „Of course I can, Mr. Rowl---Thorfinn.“ She corrected herself at the last moment, since he had told her he despised being called Mr. Rowle, „What would you like?“ Amy asked the nurse.
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