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Post by Silas Rosier on Jan 26, 2010 15:22:43 GMT 1
He didn’t feel any different.
Or, well, nothing aside from seemingly chronic exhaustion for the last few days, but then, splitting your soul in half was bound to do that to a person. Other than that, no. No mad desire for world domination, no going crazy on a sense of power, no ability to suddenly pick up the Hogwarts Express, no mad killing spree urges. Nadda.
Or, okay. That was a lie.
He did have an urge for something. Thankfully, an urge that was much less sinister.
He needed a drink. Now.
The Leaky Cauldron smelt like its usual mixture of second hand smoke, alcohol and slightly damp wood as Silas stepped in through the old, rickety door leading from Diagon Alley. His nose automatically wrinkled in distaste. Ergh, smoke. It’d started giving him a headache recently for God knew what reason. It never used to bother him before until a few months ago.
He didn’t stop to dwell on it, instead wandering over to the bar with only a cursory glance at the other patrons. Why they were slumming it inside instead of taking advantage of the first sunny day in a week was beyond him. The light was streamed in invitingly through the windows and he was pleased to note it actually looked like they’d been cleaned for once.
As for himself? This was just a pit-stop: Get in. Refuel. Get out.
He found himself an empty stool and put the package he was holding down on the cool, scratched wooden surface of the bar. It wasn’t anything special, just a collection of potions and other items he’d run out of at home that couldn’t wait for shopping day. He was going through sleeping potion quicker than ever now that they’d made the damn bottles smaller.
The one bartender on rock noticed him almost immediately. She paused only long enough to take in his appearance before fixing on a wide customer-service smile and requesting his order with practiced delivery.
“Cheers,” Silas replied somewhat absently, taking a seat before crossing his arms on the bar and leaning forwards. “Do you stock any colour-charmed La Coquette absinthe?”
Promising she’d check, the blonde vanished behind the storeroom door, giving Silas a moment alone with his thoughts.
He’d been walking through the streets earlier when a diamond necklace in one of the windows of a designer jewellery store had made him do a double-take. It was really quite beautiful. Or, he thought it was anyway. Not too ostentatious but still elegant enough to get its share of attention. He was really considering going back for it. Unfortunately, jewellery shopping for women was a tricky process and there was no guarantee Jac would even like it. Ergh, decisions. It certainly wouldn’t hurt though, would it? Earn him some brownie points maybe? Of course he was willing to bet ‘it’s the thought that counts’ meant shit-all with a woman like Jac.
... This was ridiculous. He never got indecisive about anything. What the hell was wrong with him?
The barmaid returned quickly and Silas signalled her to leave the bottle before sliding some galleons across to her with a word of thanks. Yeah, alright, so it was more than a little early in the day to be knocking back the hard liquor, but he didn’t care. When did he ever care? Silas magiced himself up some ice into the tumbler and poured himself a rather generous double of the black alcohol. At least it’d shut the cravings up. Then maybe he could check that shop again.
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Post by ellie on Jan 26, 2010 21:37:46 GMT 1
The Leaky Cauldron was a very smokey place. That was the first thing the dark haired girl noticed as she walked into the pub off the busy London street. The door swung shut behind her and she took a few steps in. Her eyes were already watering from the smoke and she was squinting. This was going to be hell for her lungs. She was walking quickly through the pub, eager to get out and onto Diagon Alley. It was a beautiful day out, bright and sunny and the way she liked it. Also the pub was darker, though the windows were cleaned they sun was still fighting to light up the shadowy, smoky pub.
As she passed the bar her foot caught on a stool leg and she fell forward. She managed to catch herself on the bar in time but a few people glanced her way. They all turned back to their drinks when they saw she was okay but it was still humiliating. Ellie had her fair share of embarrassments, she was a klutz, not all the time, but she had her moments, and being in a dark pub full of smoke didn't exactly help. "I'm sorry," She quickly said to the man who's stool she had caught her foot on, "I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going." Sh shrugged apologetically.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jan 27, 2010 9:35:05 GMT 1
There were certain things Silas usually expected to be interrupted by at some point during his week. For example: people talking loudly, casino staff coming to bother him with questions, Abe just being Abe, and hell, even people striking up conversations at bars wasn’t unheard of.
But random flying women?
Yeah, that wasn’t on the list.
A foot caught on the back of his stool and Silas swore colourfully when the person behind him tripped and almost crashed into the bar. Without thinking he lurched forwards and managed to grab hold of the girls arm just as she broke her fall. It wasn’t the suavest catch in the world, but it wasn’t like he’d been sitting at the bar deviously waiting for someone to trip. Heck, he hadn’t even noticed she was behind him.
Unfortunately, in the same move the back of his hand had wacked against the top of the tumbler, knocking the glass clear over. Dark liquid spilled all over the bar; drenching the bottom of the brown paper-wrapped box Silas had been carrying before pouring off the edge and onto his trousers. With a loud hiss of air from between his teeth he released her arm in favour of leaping off the stool sharpish.
“What the fu—” Silas cut himself off from another bout of surprised swearing to quickly rescue the sodden box before any more harm befell it. Goddamnit!
Just what he needed.
Judging himself to be out of the immediate danger of any more spilled beverages, Silas looked back up at the girl again and was able to resist the vicious commentary trying to break through. Ergh. Disaster wrapped in a pretty package. Lucky she wasn’t a man or he’d have ripped her throat out already.
“Shit happens. Don’t worry about it,” he grumbled irritably before raising his arms a bit to peer down and check the damage. Well, fuck. That drink had been expensive! Thankfully it had sloshed just above his knees instead of anywhere more embarrassing. Probably the only strike of luck in all this. “Easy fix,” he sighed exasperatedly, making a move for his pocket for his wand.
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Post by ellie on Jan 27, 2010 12:44:39 GMT 1
Of course as if tripping wasn't bad enough but the man's drink also spilled everywhere, god it was a good thing she was a witch or she would be screwed in life. She closed her eyes briefly as the man jumped up, trying to save his package, and then she opened them again. The man had jumped off the stool, and the dark drink had sopped all over the counter. "I'm sorry, again, I don't know why I'm being so klutzy," Ellie apologized and quickly drew her wand. She saw the man was about to but before he could she flicked her wand and the glass righted itself on the the table. With another sweep of her wand and a half whispered spell the dark liquid rose and flowed back into the glass. Soon the entire table was clear of the dark liquid. As for the man's package, she had no idea. She turned to look at him and smiled when she saw that her spell had also got the liquid that had sopped the package and fallen off the table. She always had been good at charms and it was finally paying off.
She then turned back to the man, "Again let me apologize, I didn't mean for any of that to happen." She shrugged helplessly and put her wand back in her pocket. She quickly pushed her hair back behind her ear and then glanced down at her nails. She had painted them red this morning, a bright bright poppy red, or you could call it blood red if you wanted to be more sinister. She then dropped her hands at her side and waited for the man to speak.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jan 28, 2010 5:16:40 GMT 1
 [atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;]
There was more apologising before the woman ruefully added “I don't know why I'm being so klutzy.”
“Law of the universe,” Silas replied, disregarding his wand when he saw the woman was already reaching for hers. “Whenever it’s most inconvenient for something to happen, that’s when it happens. And, naturally, I had a drink in the perfect position to get knocked over next to stuff that really shouldn’t get wet.” He half-joked, holding up the wet box next to his head to illustrate his point before dropping the arm to his side.
Huh. Interesting wand colour. Silas kept an eye on it while she preformed some variation of a packing charm. Strange. He hadn’t seen bloodwood used in a number of years, what with the tree being south-American and most wand-makers preferring their wand-woods fresh. Quick reflexes with that too – the girl was good at cleaning charms.
As for what she was casting, that was another matter entirely. Silas watched bemusedly as the liquid collected itself and poured back into the tumbler. What the hell was the point of that? Yeah, La Coquette was a fabulous brand, but he wasn’t about to drink something that had just been all over a public table and on the floor. That was about as hygienic eating a slice of cake that had fallen on a toilet seat. He didn’t want to know where the Leaky Cauldron patrons had been before rubbing their hands and arses all over the place. Silas eyed the glass for a moment before drawing his wand and tapping the rim, quietly incanting “Evaneso.” The contents vanished. “Thanks for the help.”
“Again let me apologize, I didn't mean for any of that to happen.”
“I’d hope not,” he replied, an amused-looking smile tugging at a corner of his lips this time as he slipped his wand back in his pocket. “Seems a bit unfair to be getting revenge before even giving me the chance to piss you off first.”
Oh screw it. The glass was a lost cause now and whatever dignity he might have left had run off when he’d spilled the absinthe all over himself. Besides, the stranger had a lot more reason to be embarrassed than he did. Silas reached for the bottle, tilting it up to his mouth for a welcome draught of the bitter, near-liquorice flavoured alcohol. The annoyance over the accident he was doing a good job of hiding subsided a little further. Urg, that was nicer. He felt better already.
“You know, I think I’m going to head out into the sunlight to dry the rest of this off,” he mused, looking down at his trousers again. Hopefully they’d desiccate faster with the help of some UV-rays and a hot-air charm. The box – although mercifully no longer dripping – was still unfortunately damp. “Smoke was giving me a headache anyway.” Or was that the smoke or the fact he hadn’t drank anything in a few hours? He really couldn’t tell any more.
It was only then that he cottoned onto the fact the girl must have been heading over to Diagon Alley. There was nothing on this side of the pub except for the exit. “Were you on your way out?” If she was going fast enough to trip she must have been in a hurry. “Hope this didn’t make you late for work or anything.”
... Actually, no. It would probably serve her right to watch where the hell she was going.
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