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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Mar 4, 2009 16:24:32 GMT 1
Letting your hair down. What a nice figure of speech. Jacaranda had been having a tough week. Silas Rosier was an employer that made ‘nose to the grindstone’ an almost literal term. After clawing her way through the reams of papers and numbers, she was still short on solving a few mysteries, and Silas seemed unwilling to shed any light on them. Jack wasn’t naïve enough to think they were anything less than legal ventures, but she was beginning to think it was best to let sleeping lions lay.
When Jacaranda was drunk, she liked to entertain figures of speech, numbers seemed quite irrational when the word was spinning yet she was sitting still. She literally had let her hair down, and was holed up in some dark corner of the upstairs balcony of Scores. She held on defensively to her drink, and the waitresses were quite happy to keep her supply of beer topped up as the accountant tipped heavily. Her wand lay innocuously on the table top, at hand for when the next man came to ‘talk’ to her. She really didn’t appreciate that. The bouncers had already warned her that she would be shown the door if she hexed any more customers. Jack was confused at that. Why would she want to see the door? It wasn’t exactly exciting, though the sleek black wood was rather exotic. Whatever floated their boats, she supposed.
Currently she was in a fuzzy state of warmness, and she was actually enjoying the music for once. She had complained bitterly about it all week, but now her feet were even tapping along to it. She’d removed her shoes, having found them to become increasingly uncomfortable. They lay forgotten under the table, and now she’d folded her legs up onto the bench beside her. She’d chosen a nice secluded booth, big enough for six people with a semi-circular bench furnished in plush red leather. She liked it. The colour matched her lipstick and skirt. Her shirt was the usual white, though the V neck left even less to be desired than usual. Apparently she was wearing lacy pale blue underwear if her panties matched the bra, which they would. Jack took her appearance seriously.
Topping up her glass with a pitcher one of the girls so nicely provided, Jack continued to watch the dancers. How on earth did they bend like that? She could see when it might come in useful, though it had to be painful surely. Looking quite quizzical, the drunken accountant would not be glad to see the familiar man approaching if she’d noticed him. His shadow fell over her table, and she glared blearily at the latest intruder on her personal space (which extended a good ten metres around her) while reaching for her wand. Did nobody understand that not all the women in this place were for their viewing pleasure? Whoever it was would most likely be on the receiving end of a particularly vicious hex if they didn’t move soon.
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Abraham Grey
Adult (A) 
Hufflepuff Head of House
Arithmancy Professor
Posts: 152
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Post by Abraham Grey on Mar 4, 2009 22:29:40 GMT 1
While it had been amusing at first watching the toddler run into the table leg got old pretty quickly. It kept bloody crying about it, like a little bruise was anywhere near as bad as getting your nose broken twice in one evening. Abe glared at the toddler from behind his firewhiskey, which only made the child cry all the harder. This was why he didn’t drink in The Three Broomsticks, they even let mothers in here, mothers with grizzly children.
With a huff he stood, leaving a galleon beside his empty tumbler to cover the drink plus tips. Approaching the small boy he quickly cast the necessary spell to heal the small bruise and picked him up. ”I believe this is yours.” Abe said, dumping the toddler into his mother’s lap with little ceremony. He couldn’t stand adults who were too busy yakking to pay attention to their own children. Especially when they did it in his drinking space. It was most definitely long past due time to return to the safety of Scores. Jacaranda was the lesser of two evils and it was probably only fair he rescued Silas from her clutches.
Apparating into the foyer of the club, it took Abe only a moment to be ushered through by the bouncers on the door. They knew him and also knew he had a tab, it was far too much trouble to count out small change when he couldn’t even stand up straight. Abe needed a quiet corner, somewhere he could brood about his favourite drinking haunts being corrupted by the forces of evil with only the occasional interruption in the form of boobs. That was one advantage to Scores; more boobs and less Australians that were likely to throw him out when he and Idris got a little too rowdy.
The balcony would be perfect. One of the booths would give him the privacy he needed and he might even have time to hide under the table should Jacaranda appear. Sods law she was already up there. Abe almost didn’t recognise her with her hair down like that and her red lips and her breasts all perfect and distracting… In fact he started making his way towards her, deciding to forgo brooding to try his hand at flirting instead, it usually yielded far more satisfying results.
”Jac?” He blurted, wincing as he both recognised her and realised she’d probably hex his balls off for using her nickname. He’d forgotten she was Ms. Mulciber to him now. Was she drunk? Excellent. The wince turned into a smug and more than a little lecherous grin. Abe ignored the wand she was pointing hazily in his direction, in this state she couldn’t hit him if he had a neon target painted on his chest, and he chose to slide into the booth instead. ”Well this is a pleasant surprise.” [/font] |
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Mar 4, 2009 23:48:11 GMT 1
The voice was enough. Squinting only confirmed her suspicions. “Ergh, it's you.” She didn’t seem too pleased to see Abe but she at least surrendered her wand, letting it lay back on the table with a clatter. She’d rather hex him, but the bouncers were looking on with anticipation and better the devil she knew that the devil she didn’t, right? Maybe with Abe there, as soft-looking as he was, it might deter the rest of the men lurking around.
Resting the side of her head on her palm, elbow braced on the table, she glared over at her uninvited guest. She gave a sideways glance to the half-pitcher of beer and very unsubtly reached for it and held onto it. “You can get your own drink,” she told him, though he’d made no move to take hers. “Go away.” She grumbled, half-heartedly. She had to make a token resistance, though company was actually something she secretly liked. Sat on your own in an office full of self-calculating abacus and stacks of paper could be very dull and lonely.
The brunette wrinkled her nose as she focussed her eyes on Abe. On second thoughts, she preferred the solitude. “Pleasant for you,” she grumbled under her alcohol-tinged breath. “What d’you want, Abe. Make it quick, I’m incredibly busy.” The tone was the usual dry bite, but it was slurred a little and seemed lazy though that wasn’t surprising from the languid state of her. She might have taken more offence at the way he was looking at her, though the fact that he still looked at her that way was self-satisfying.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 5, 2009 0:57:55 GMT 1
Silas ordinarily rarely had to interfere with the day-to-day running of the club. The place more or less organised itself these days, which suited him just fine; more time to occupy himself with more amusing pastimes. Like Ed. Any day now he was going to get that barman to cry. Silas had been oddly silent on the matter of Cassie however, far be it from him to give away that tactical advantage so readily, but he’d given enough hints that Dacian had been screwing a blonde for the barman’s face to go a satisfying shade of pale. By the time he got back he was feeling pleasantly out of it after a few glasses of Ed's cheap booze. No sense getting too drunk just yet.
Silas was barely through the door to Scores when once of the bouncers appeared next to him like he had apparated out of nowhere, saying there was a woman upstairs causing trouble but they weren’t sure what to do about it. After all, it was a woman, and not any woman: his accountant. What was protocol on throwing out staff? Silas waved him off with an ”I’ll deal with it,” and headed upstairs. What was Jacaranda playing at now? Oddly, when he got there there was no one to be seen except the usual drunkards with no sign of an improperly tight bun or hunched figure over sheets of paper.
Maybe she’d just left before- wait, did he just see what he thought he saw?
Silas literally stopped dead in his tracks, staring uncertainly at two people in a booth. Abe and his comically oversized head he’d recognise anywhere but he somehow must have gotten drunk on mere alcohol fumes alone if the woman with him was who he thought she was. Maybe she just had a passing resemblance to- ... wait no. Same eyes, cheekbones and same unusually-flirty-for-an-office-drone dress style. Was Hell having an Ice Age or something? Jacaranda Mulciber. Drunk. At Scores. With Abe. Silas would feel a little better if the walls just started talking, then at least he could be sure he was hallucinating.
What do you know? She was human after all.
Although exactly why Jac was clinging onto a tankard like her firstborn and Abe had recovered from his severe Jacarandaphobia to come back to Scores for the first time in weeks to see her was a damn good question. Turning around, Silas made his way briskly in their direction, lodging his hand in his wand pocket just in case.
”Hello Abe,” he said giving Abe a friendly nod of acknowledgment when he reached the table before staring down at his very out of character accountant. ”Jac, what the hell are you doing?” he asked crisply, his eye suddenly catching the sight of the wand abandoned on the table. If it wasn’t for the fact hers had a much more flourishly carved handle he would have immediately mistaken it as his own. Elm, nine and a half inches. They had the same wand type? Silas was visibly unimpressed. Great, now he felt contaminated. ”We’ve gotten complaints.” |
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Abraham Grey
Adult (A)
Hufflepuff Head of House
Arithmancy Professor
Posts: 152
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Post by Abraham Grey on Mar 8, 2009 21:25:22 GMT 1
Abe put a hand to his heart, acting mortally wounded at Jacaranda’s less than enthusiastic greeting. She’d lowered her wand, though, and by her standards that was practically a welcoming invitation. The glare she shot his way, now that was more like the Jack he knew. Abe smirked back, he wasn’t above pushing his luck, if only because he could see she was already totally plastered. Good thing too, Jack was far better company when she was too paralytic to hex him.
Damn, it appeared she still remembered his love of drink as she cut him off before he could pilfer a share of her pitcher of beer. ”Generous as always.” Abe huffed, slouching back in the booth and crossing his arms in a childish sulk. ”Will not.” He threw in, because he hadn’t done quite enough to act like a five year old throwing a temper tantrum. Seeing Jacaranda again reminded him of being nineteen. He’d been young and pathetic then.
Of course some might argue he was just old and pathetic now. ”It isn’t the company that’s for sure.” He shot back. Abe wasn’t entirely sure why he was even sitting with her. He’d wanted to avoid her completely. Hadn’t he? Some small part of his brain wanted to catch up, compare life stories from the last ten years in the hope of getting the opportunity to gloat if he was richer, more famous or more pretty. Mostly he just wanted to shag her.
Then Silas had to show up and ruin it all by having a go at Jack. Putting her in a bad, well… worse, mood really wouldn’t help his chances. But he could help feeling smug as he revealed that Jacranda had been cursing everyone who approached. Every except him. Perhaps that old spark of attraction was still there between them. Or perhaps he was just making shit up because he still really wanted to get in her pants.
Either way Silas was ruining everything by standing there all handsome and rugged in his expensive and neatly pressed robes. Abe had forgotten to shave that morning and despite his robes being the most expensive a wizard could buy he still managed to look distinctly scruffy. Not to mention the soggy toddler that had wiped it’s nose on his sleeve. Baby drool did not impress a woman like Jacaranda. Luckily Abe knew his bank balance mostly made up for it all.
”Silas,” He returned in greeting, siding with Jac in the hope of getting on her good side. Like some twisted good auror, bad auror routine. ”Give the girl a break, she’s been buried in your finances for a month.” Abe shot him a look that clearly said ’you’re fucking things up!’. If Silas couldn’t see that she was sex on legs then he was clearly blind. Or gay. He had his suspicions. ”Why don’t you get in a round? Jacaranda seems rather attached to her drink and it wouldn’t be very chivalrous of us to leave her drinking alone.” [/font] |
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Mar 8, 2009 23:21:32 GMT 1
Jacaranda wrinkled her petite nose as Abe ignored her and sat down anyway. She was tempted to hex him anyway but she lacked the dexterity in her fingers to pick the wand from the table so she gave up and settled for pushing his shoulder instead. She almost toppled herself with the force feedback, and she grumbled and glared at Abe like it was his fault her pitcher almost departed from the table. She hugged the jug tighter and settled an almost steady glower on the man. She utterly despised him, though it appeared even Jac was subject to the irrationalities that affected all drinkers.
He didn’t look half bad, really. He’d filled out a little in those years since she’d seen him last and he’d grown into those ridiculous ears. He did seem to still be trying to keep that ‘unkempt’ look, and it made the furrow in her brow deepen. Couldn’t he dress smartly for once? At least then he might look like the IQ she knew he had. Grudgingly she reminded herself that his mind was just as if not more brilliant than hers. So why was it he could make numbers jump through hoops and do other acrobatics with barely a thought yet he insisted on looking like some homeless hooligan? She huffed and lifted the heavy jug to take a swig of beer.
Surprisingly she managed not to dribble any down her front, and upon lowering the container to the table top again, she looked to see if Abe was still there. “Shoo, barfly. Or else.” Though apparently her threats held no weight as he didn’t even flinch. Feeling very much like a de-clawed and de-fanged tiger, she sunk back in her seat to sulk.
She had barely a moment before another figure approached, though this one she received with more enthusiasm. Well, as much as her scowl fading was enthusiastic. Silas was much more welcome than Abe. In her state, she had no pesky inhibitions to get in the way of any roaming thoughts and a whole herd came meandering into her forebrain. Her employer was a smartly-dressed, quick-witted, sharp-tongued and ruggedly handsome man. Abe paled in comparison physically, but Jac also knew that both men’s bank balances were well endowed and to the number-obsessed woman, that was all the playing cards a man needed. Her eyes focussed diligently on Silas. Though looking good didn’t harm one’s chances.
Her smirk could of passed for a smile but any attempt to diagnose it was ruined when Abe cut in. She supposed it was rather nice that the younger man was helping her out, but he should know by now she would not want his assistance. However, more drink did sound like a good idea, and so did Silas joining them. Aside from announcing his departure, they were perhaps the best two things Abraham could say.
“Mmm, yes Silas. Why don’t you join us?” She relinquished her hold on the drink to pat the bench seat beside her. She’d be getting more alcohol soon, she could risk letting Abe getting his hands on it. “Plenty of room. Nice and comfy, not like that damned office chair of yours.” She sat up and twisted a little, using Abe’s shoulder as a much-needed prop for her back. She unfolded her legs and rested her heels on the dark polished floor, crossing her legs at the ankle. Unfortunately, leather was not very conducive to lounging and she braced a hand on Abe’s knee to keep her seat.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 9, 2009 11:53:45 GMT 1
Jacaranda Mulciber was asking him to hang around for drinks? Wow, she was more smashed than Silas had given her credit for. That or she had finally suffered a breakdown from the almost criminal amount of paperwork he’d been setting her to keep both himself amused and her distracted. You couldn’t rule out that she was plotting something nasty in vengeance for the aforementioned overwork too. Perhaps he was over-thinking this, Silas thought bitterly. Better quit before he gave himself a migraine.
What it came down to was the question of what he wanted more: a long-overdue fight with Ms Mulciber, or drinks and a shot at getting into her pants? Tough one. He’d been after an excuse to rip her head from her shoulders for a while, but at least if he slept with her it could be just as satisfying with the option of dangling it over her head later. Abe’s expression was what finally cinched his decision to stay. The man looked like he was trying to radiate psychic waves of ‘go away’ notwithstanding the affable invitation. What was he up to? There was at least one way to find out.
”If you insist, and if it’ll stop you jinxing people,” Silas said, putting on a mock-defeated look. The lone pitcher of an unnamed alcohol got his attention. For one, it looked almost empty, and two, it was beer if he wasn’t very much mistaken. That wasn’t going to suit everyone, as Silas was notoriously picky in many details of his life, including his preference of alcohols. Beer wasn’t on that list, premium or otherwise. ”Give me a sec and I’ll order up something else.”
Catching sight of a waitress wiping down a nearby table that had just been vacated, Silas quickly strode over, not out of earshot of the other two, and grabbed her arm. The woman almost jumped a foot but he appeared not care or notice. ”Gina?” Yep, looked like her. ”Bottle of Ridgeback Highland Park Single Malt, some La Coquette Absinthe Black mixed with Margaret River, red not white, and extra glass and a top up of what the lady’s drinking. Move it,” he barked, and the waitress ran off with a look like he’d just spoken an impossible language she was meant to decipher. Bah, she’d work it out, they always did eventually.
Showing off a bit? Possibly. None the less the expensive-as-shit drinks were mere pocket change now thanks in no small part to the equivalent of U.S. 25 grand that Adrian was steadily transferring into his Gringott's account. Despite Silas’s sudden financial windfall the Fire Whiskey was going on Abe’s tab whether he protested or not, possibly with seven hundred galleons listed under ‘tips’. Silas hadn’t quite forgiven him for making off with all the free booze last time.
He made himself comfortable on the right side of Jac. She may be leaning on Abe but at least she was looking in his direction. ”What brings you two up here?” Silas asked, leaning forwards and crossing his arms on the table. He, at least, thought it was a damn good question. Jac was acting extremely oddly and as for what had caused her and Abe to suddenly kiss and make up had to be linked to some fucked up magical experiment, surely. |
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Abraham Grey
Adult (A)
Hufflepuff Head of House
Arithmancy Professor
Posts: 152
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Post by Abraham Grey on Mar 9, 2009 20:13:38 GMT 1
When Abe had suggested Silas get a round in he hadn’t actually meant for the man to join them. Just fetch the drinks and then find an excuse to leave, like any good friend would do. Perhaps pay for the booze too, that would be perfect. Instead Jacaranda invited him to join them, which Abe could almost forgive her for because she clearly wasn’t in on the whole get him laid plan. But when Silas agreed he scowled, he was being a total cock-blocker.
The scowl melted a little as Jack leaned against him. He wasn’t used to her being so tactile considering she usually got irritable (more irritable than usual) if anybody stood less than a metre away from her. Then again usually she could sit up without swaying. Whatever the reason for her suddenly draping herself over him he wasn’t going to complain about it. Especially not about the hand on his thigh. Perhaps she was clued into the get him laid plan after all.
Now that Silas was staying he’d gone from friend and wingman to still friendly rival. It was slightly irritating that Silas had a practically limitless supply of expensive liquor at his fingertips. Back in the day Jack had liked her drink and it appeared, from the way she’d been clutching the pitcher of beer moments before, that she still did so Silas’s little stunt might impress her. Then again her hand wasn’t on Silas’s thigh. In the grand scheme of things Abe was still winning.
”The Three Broomsticks isn’t all its cracked up to be.” He explained in answer to Silas’s question. It was obvious to the both of them why he hadn’t returned to his usual haunt of The Hog’s Head, until that blasted vampire was gone Abe wasn’t going anywhere near the pub. ”So I thought I’d catch up with my old friend Jacaranda.” He shifted his hand to rest it over hers on his leg. Short of announcing it (which really lacked subtlety and would have to wait until he was drunk) he couldn’t really any more clearly have said ’Back off Silas, she was mine first.’ [/font] |
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Mar 9, 2009 23:15:50 GMT 1
Unlike Abe, Jacaranda was more than drunk enough to throw subtlety to the wind and watch as it got sucked into the nearest wind turbine and get shredded to pieces. Although propped quite snugly against Abe, her eyes were (relatively) unwaveringly on Silas. When it came to men with money, the ‘professional relationship’ boundaries were bendable in Jac’s universe. Thanks in part to Abe, she’d come to the harsh truth years ago that there was no such thing as a professional woman who made her way up the corporate ladder without laying her hands on an influential man to give her a helping hand.
Luckily men were easy enough to get what you wanted out of them so long as you gave them something they wanted in return. And all men wanted one thing in particular and for an attractive woman like Jac, it wasn’t difficult to oblige. Silas was a good enough looking man, and though his finances could use a little bit of management, there was enough money around to make laying her hands and various other things on him a worthwhile endeavour. Since working on the club’s finances exclusively, she had entertained the idea of seducing Silas Rosier quite frequently. The problem was, he was not short of women eager to please, so she had to find something to offer that would be a step above the rest.
Silas menace the waitress was not an odd occurrence. She knew he was a forceful and persuasive man, which only made him more of a challenge. Being easy had not been in her game plan, but right now it was the best plan she could come up with. She wasn’t exactly intellectual at this current point in time.
She very almost smiled as Silas turned to come back after placing his orders – and they were orders – and she shifted her stocking-ed foot not-so-subtly to hook his nearest leg. The corner of her mouth might have curled a little, and her eyes stayed on his.
Abe was blatantly delirious. She huffed and turned her head as far as she could to scowl over her shoulder at him. “Old friend? I’m not old.” She snapped, “And I’m certainly not your friend either.” She rolled her eyes and turned her focus back to Silas though her hand remained on Abe’s leg. “Well I’m certainly not here for the scenery, am I? Abe came to take my beer, and you better not be here to do the same. I paid for it fair and square.” He shot a withering glare over her shoulder at Abe. That reminded her: he owed a substantial tab. Her fingers tightening on his leg was supposed to be a warning, though it was a distracting reminder of the wiry state of his leg muscles. She grumbled, instantly blaming Abe for her weaknesses. Abe wasn’t the most thickset of men, but she used to appreciate his lean build once-upon-a-time.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 10, 2009 2:53:44 GMT 1
Silas eyed the way Abe clamped his hand down almost possessively over Jacaranda’s. Ah, so that was it was it? Funny how he didn’t catch that before, it was fairly obvious on second thoughts. Nothing wrong with having both of them, but Abe would likely protest to that suggestion. The man was nothing if not strictly heterosexual. Besides, the competition was easily half the fun, Jacaranda was an interesting woman to start with, but there was nothing quite like plucking someone from the clutches of another man to make a conquest all the more satisfying. The game was on.
Silas was so accustomed to getting the evil eye from Jacaranda that having her look at him any other way was decidedly odd. There was a hint of a smile a few times, but stilted, as thought she kept deciding against it or too drunk to manage one. He actually preferred it that way, Jac smiling in his direction might cause spontaneous planetary combustion. The interest in his expression as he peered back was actually genuine for once, if only because he was busy wondering what the hell was going on in that drunken brain of hers.
Abe’s lead was more or less lost the moment Jac’s foot curved in around his calf in a very unashamed manoeuvre. Was she trying to play both houses or something? Not a problem. Silas not-so-surreptitiously shifted his position to make it easier for her to wrap her legs around and dropped his hand under the table to idly drum his fingers lightly over her knee. Hmm, those felt like expensive stockings, not that he was going to admit to identifying it. You could only spend so long in an industry where what you’re wearing can be just as important as what you’re not before gaining a token knowledge of materials.
”Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smiled automatically, glancing down at the table only to have the wand attract his attention again. Yep, it was still creepy the second time he looked at it. Silas generally hated being compared to other people, but wands were meant to be personally reflective of your inner nature and right there was a little wooden stick of proof he may be more similar to someone than he ever wanted to admit. And, of all people, it was the anally retentive Jacaranda Mulciber. However, credit where it was due, the stick up her arse seemed to have disappeared for the time being courtesy of the booze. It worked miracles that stuff.
It was easier just to look at her again instead of her wand, so he did, making a pointed note to ignore Abe. Exclusion tended to do wonders for removing or at least agitating the unwelcome. ”I ordered you a top up, but if you feel like something different let me know and I’ll have it sent up on the house.” Women like free stuff, yes? |
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