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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on May 19, 2009 15:39:11 GMT 1
In a booth far far away sat an accountant. She looked harried and annoyed, and generally gave off an aura of ‘piss right off’, literally and figuratively. She’d constructed a little bubble around her booth, blocking out the deafening noise and deafening people from the club. She’s laced it with barrier charms, and so far they seemed to be working a treat. She’d even inscribed a luminous ‘Piss Right Off’ into the barrier itself. Why she wasn’t using her usual office or even Silas’s was anybody’s guess, only Jac knew the answer to that one.
Spread out on the table before her was a multitude of parchments, covering the table and spilling over onto the booth’s leather benches. Jac held a quill in hand and leafed through pages with fastidious dexterity, frowning at some pages, scribbling notes on some and more onto another parchment she kept under her left elbow. She scowled particularly hard at one sheet and took a red plume from her bun which had been stick in the hair at a rakish angle. She scribbled something in angry red ink from the quill and put the red feather back in her hair, tucking it behind her ear.
Aside from the red quill acting like an accessory, she was wearing something fairly demure. Her charcoal-grey skirt came down past her knees, and her blouse didn’t drop down in its usual V, instead ruffling around her throat in a few layers of conservative lace. Even the fabric of the shirt barely hinted at the colour bra she wore, and for once it was a plain white. She had taken off her heels as was her usual custom, and had tucked her feet under the skirt up on the leather bench. The shoes were long lost under piles of parchment that had fallen from the table and benches onto the floor. It effectively looked like there had been a snowstorm of paper in the booth and the only thing keeping it from spilling out into the rest of the club was the barrier spells.
Jac quite obviously didn’t want to be disturbed and it was working quite well up until now. It would take a wizard who did not value his life to break down her barriers, though sod’s law there was bound to be at least one of those around tonight.
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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 May 19, 2009 17:19:40 GMT 1
It had been a good week since Abe’s ill-fated attempt to kiss Jac. He’d spent what was left of that night stuck in his office, snoozing awkwardly in his chair with his feet up on the desk, and when even his and Connery’s combined efforts couldn’t get the door open the next morning, Abe was forced to resort to summoning a broom and flying to class. A method he employed for three full days while his office door remained stubbornly locked, at which point the finally cracked the tricky little spell.
Abe was clearly a glutton for punishment as he was actively seeking Jacaranda out in order to apologise. A week was probably long enough for her to have cooled off right? And he’d made sure he transferred the money he owed into the Scores bank account the following day as promised, that should have mollified her a little too. If both time and money failed to win her over he’d purchased an overly large bouquet of roses, charmed so that the petals changed colour periodically.
As soon as he reached the school gates he apparated to Scores, arriving in the foyer and handed over the money required to pay admission. The girl on the entrance desk looked slightly surprised, of all the times Abe had paid Scores a visit he’d never once paid the cover charge outright, preferring instead to put it on his tab. But there was no sense getting into debt again when he’d only just paid it off, not if he wanted Jacaranda to talk to him instead of hexing him.
He took advantage of the nearby bar to order a whiskey, needing a little liquid courage even if it would likely detract from reaction times he’d have to rely on to keep all his appendages in tact. Abe swallowed the shot of whiskey in one gulp, paid up (another set of eyebrows risen in surprise), and set about looking for her. He came up empty in the office, both of them, and decided to explore the rest of the club a little more thoroughly before giving up. He’d paid the entrance fee, he wasn’t leaving until he got at least a few glimpses of the girls.
Besides he’d found Jac in the club proper once before. Admittedly she’d been blind drunk on that occasion, but it was worth a shot. The gamble paid off because he found her hidden away in one of the booths upstairs. Abe had never seen her work look so untidy, something was clearly bothering her, it might be safer not to approach.
No, it was almost Christmas, perhaps a little holiday cheer would save him. He steeled himself and walked over, coming forcibly to a halt when he collided with her invisible barrier spell. The words ‘Piss Right Off’ burned themselves into his retinas. Maybe she was still quite angry after all. ”Jacaranda?” He called, knocking on the barrier, before pulling out his wand to attempt a couple of spells that might disable the invisible shield keeping him from her. Now that he knew her technique, hours puzzling over his locked office door clueing him in, the process was a little less tricky. [/font]
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on May 19, 2009 19:51:58 GMT 1
Blissfully unaware of her least favourite person, Jacaranda continued to scratch away at parchments while Abraham tinkered about with her barrier spells. Just before the spells broke, she was hunting around in one of the parchment piles for a specific receipt, black-ink quill held in her teeth. Both spells broke with a little pop and suddenly the cacophony of club noise came crashing down on her.
She jumped, crumpling several stacks of paper beside her and spilling scrolls onto the floor with a clatter that she could barely hear over the din the native savages called music. Her glare rounded on none other than Abraham Grey, and her expression looked as if steam might start whistling from her ears. “You!” She shouted, searching under the parchments for her wand.
Her victorious smile was something you might see on a crocodile right before it bit you in half. She pointed the recovered wand directly at Abe, her murderous glare fixed on him. Lips twisting, she wondered exactly what to do to him. The bouncers had tried to throw her out last time she transfigured one of the patrons into a slug. She flicked her wand to clear part of the opposite bench of paper and pointed at it. “Sit.” She would have to get creative if she was gong to get away with anything.
Grumbling, she scraped up some papers and retrieved some of the ones sneaking out from under the table and put them in another pile beside her. With another muttered incantation, she threw up the sound-absorbing barrier again and pointed her wand at Abraham. “Touch anything and I’ll sue you.” She started rummaging some more, tidying the paper into stacks. Better keep the parchments out of the way if any nasty-looking boils she gave to Abe decided to pop.
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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 May 20, 2009 15:40:25 GMT 1
A couple of muttered words and a particularly intricate flick of the wand and the spells broke, vanishing with a little pop and a shimmer of light. Abe grinned, probably a little more pleased with himself than he should be considering he’d only cracked a couple of relatively simple sound and barrier spells. His grin faded as soon as he caught sight of the poisonous glower Jacaranda was shooting in his direction for interrupting her. Definitely still mad then.
He flinched as she yelled at him, though it couldn’t have been much louder than the thump of music around them. Abe grinned sheepishly, holding the bouquet of red roses in front of him like it was a shield, not very effective but he still felt safer putting something between him and her. Especially when she pointed her wand at him, a look about her that reminded him of a blast ended screwt that was about to attack.
When she ordered him to sit, Abe sat, sliding into the seat and thankful for the table between them. She hadn’t cursed him yet, so far so good. He risked looking away from her for long enough to take in just how cluttered the booth really was. Parchment and receipts covered every available surface, once need piles spread out into a crumpled mess. This was more like his desk, what happened to alphabetising charms and a properly ordered work environment.
Abe snatched his hand away from the document he’d been about to pick up, Jacaranda had already cost him enough money in the past week and he had no doubt she’d keep to her word. ”These are for you.” He said, brandishing the flowers with a hopeful smile. Abe gave them a little shake and the petals turned from soft pink to pastel yellow. One would be forgiven for thinking he’d planned it that way. [/font]
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Post by vincentdriscoll on May 21, 2009 13:06:36 GMT 1
Vinnie’s self-imposed ban on going into Scores had lasted all of one night. After managing to get into a fight with a barman and thoroughly failing to get laid, it hadn’t taken much for him to persuade himself that a strip club was exactly the place he should be spending his evenings. He’d been to the place a few times before moving to Hogwarts - wizard strip clubs were few and far between, and though it was sometimes easier to get what he wanted at muggle ones, there were some things they just couldn’t provide. Like firewhiskey.
However, it was probably thanks to all the firewhiskey he’d consumed that he’d just nearly been kicked out. He’d finally managed to find a dancer who didn’t mind offering a little extra service, but they’d been spotted by one of the bouncers just as they’d been sneaking [or more staggering slightly, in Vinnie’s case] off towards a suitably shady looking corner. Thankfully the dancer managed to talk the uptight bastard into letting Vinnie stay, but after an apologetic look, she’d scurried off out of sight.
The run in with the bouncer had gone a fair way to sobering Vinnie up, but there was still enough alcohol in his system that when he saw a dark haired woman sat in a secluded booth surrounded by paperwork and a barrier charm with the words “piss right off” scrawled into it, he thought it would be a good idea to go over and talk to her. Finding women who weren’t dancers in the club on its own was interesting, but one apparently attempting to work? Well that really was intriguing, and there was nothing Vinnie liked more than an intriguing woman. Or man. Or sheep.
The fact that there was a big neon sign telling him to take a hike - almost literally as well as metaphorically - probably should have alerted him to the fact she didn’t want company, but hell, women never said what they really meant, and even then they didn’t know what they wanted anyway.
Unfortunately, during the time Vinnie had been eyeing up his pray - and steadying himself on the bar - someone else had swooped in and snaffled her. Not that was going to stop Vinnie. He sauntered over anyway with a smile on his face, which widened as he realised who it was that had got there before him. Abraham Grey. Vinnie didn’t really know Abe that well, but they’d met on a few occasions; in the staffroom, and on the one occasion Vinnie had actually made it to the high table for breakfast, but he was so hung over it didn’t really count. Still, that was enough exposure to the man for Vinnie to come to the reasoned conclusion that he was a square. A fuckable square, but a square nonetheless, which probably meant that fucking was off the menu anyway.
It also meant that he was more than likely utterly hopeless with women. Vinnie saw him produce a bouquet of flowers - damn, so he knew her then. However, she didn’t look all that impressed, form what Vinnie could tell. An apology, maybe? Vinnie himself had never given flowers to anyone but his Ma, but most men he knew tended only to push the boat out when they wanted something, or when they were sorry. Or both. He just hoped it was the latter.
Vinnie leant casually on the side of the booth Abe was sat on as he finally reached the table - he hadn’t realised the club was so big, but at least it proved his ability to spot a babe from 100 yards away. He still had a grin on his face, one corner of his mouth twitching higher and turning it into a smirk as he uttered the immortal words “’Scuse me, Ma’am,” His voice coloured by his thick Texan accent “Is this guy bothering you?”
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on May 22, 2009 21:26:18 GMT 1
Jac looked mildly disgusted at the flowers, pausing in her gathering of papers to peer at them derisively. “I’ve got no time for your jokes, Abraham.” Her wand whirled in spell after spell, turning the booth into a blizzard of paper. When it cleared, there were nice neat piles on the desk, undoubtedly filed in some clever order. “If you have anything important to say, leave a note with Iris – she’s on the bar at the back.”
Her eyes kept straying back to the obnoxious flowers – colour-changing, seriously? Could he be more pompous? – and with a huff that sounded suspiciously like there was a growl in the back of her throat, she weaved her wand in another spell and directed it at the arrangement. Nothing happened instantly, but the bunch slowly started to wilt, dripping ominously onto the table.
Looking smug, the man approaching the table was met with a response that for Jac was downright polite. Lips twisting in her own personal joke, she kicked her shoes out from under the booth, stood and slipped them on. “As a matter of fact, yes he is.” She replied to the second man tonight lucky not to be vomiting slugs. She shot Abe a warning glare and gathered a stack of papers in her arms.
She gave the man a once over, eyes curtly scanning down and up again. From his accent, he was quite obviously American, Southern to boot. Too tall, too bulky, too rough around the edges. Her nose wrinkled a little and she shrugged inwardly. Not really her style – which was strictly refined – but he looked gullible enough.
She offered the first stack of papers out to the man. “Hold these.” He had no time to argue as she was already shoving them into his hands and picking up the next pile. Hugging it against her chest, she used her wand to levitate the last pile. She turned her ever-present scowl to Abraham, talking down to him. “Don’t stick around.” Her lip curled in that same way, as if she were enjoying her own personal joke. Glancing over her shoulder to the American, she said, or commanded: “This way.” She tilted her head, leading the way out of the bubble of her silencing charm and along the aisle, papers floating in front of her carving a wake through the people.
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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 May 23, 2009 18:35:26 GMT 1
”I’m not joking!” Abe sputtered defensively, leaning back as paper whipped up around him, rustling through the air and arranging themselves tidily on the desk, undoubtedly in some anally retentive order. When it came to spell work Jacaranda always had been a show off. His lips twisted into a pout as she tried to dismiss him. Yeah leave a note with Iris so Jac could incendio it as soon as she got her hands on it. Not likely.
And then, as if Abe wasn’t having trouble enough, Vinnie had to show up. Abe had taken an instant dislike to the new Divination Professor, he was an uneducated cad with an obvious disregard for academics and an abrasive personality. He was rough around the edges in that ‘I don’t give a damn what you think and, no, I haven’t showered in the past month’ way. And if the rumours were true Abe was insanely jealous of the amount of times the man had got laid. Actually if he ever got the chance he’d like to go drinking with the man, playing wingman might mean Abe got lucky too.
But not now. Abe felt a flare of annoyance, every time he got Jac alone somebody came along and stole her away. Or he did something stupid like try to kiss her and got himself slapped. ”No, I’m not bothering her.” He said at exactly the same moment that Jac confirmed that he was. Not that Vinnie would do anything about it, he wouldn’t dare get into an altercation with a colleague. Surely? If he did Abe was so telling Minerva.
He was so distracted by Vinnie’s arrival that he didn’t notice that the bouquet of flowers was practically melting in his hand. And then he was so busy trying to wipe the sticky substance of his hand, just getting in more of a mess in the process, that he didn’t have a chance to intervene before Jac and Vinnie were leaving him behind. Great. Abe set his elbow on the table and cupped his chin in his, less sticky, hand, propping his head up with a sigh.
Except his hand felt oddly tingly and when he tried to pull it away from his chin he discovered it was stuck firmly in place. Abe pulled harder to no avail, setting his other hand on the tabletop to get a little more leverage. Which, of course, only succeeded in getting that hand stuck too. Jac’s parting comment came back to him effectively erasing any doubt that his current predicament might have been an accident. With both hands firmly stuck he had no hope of reversing the spell, so he set his elbow back on the table in defeat, looking more like a bored patron than anything else. ”Bugger.” [/font]
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Post by vincentdriscoll on May 24, 2009 20:06:57 GMT 1
Vinnie smirked when Abe and the woman who apparently wasn’t interested in him answered at the same time. Perfect. She wanted him to get lost, he didn’t want to get lost; how could this not go Vinnie’s way? Even if he didn’t quite get to fourth base - though he had every intention of getting there - at least he’d have the satisfaction of knowing he’d screwed things up for Abe, or at least witnessed Abe screwing things up himself.
He didn’t fail to notice the woman’s eyes flicking over him - when you’d been getting laid as long and as much as Vinnie had, you paid attention to these things, though where most men thought “how can I tell if this woman likes me?”, Vinnie’s train of thought was usually more along the lines of “how can I get this woman to sleep with me?”, regardless of whether or not her initial reaction showed interest.
The wrinkle of the nose was less promising, but that didn’t stop Vinnie from repaying the look he’d just been given, letting his eyes wander over everything he could see from where the woman was sat.
Unfortunately, he was prevented from letting his hands follow his eyes by a large stack of paper. What the hell? Of all the things he’d envisioned happening to him that night - and there had been many - this was not one of them. He blinked stupidly a couple of times before the implication of the woman’s command sank in. Ah. So they were going somewhere. Alone. Without Abraham. That was good.
He barely had time to throw a smirk at Abe for his potential conquests comment before she was setting off across the room, and Vinnie had to trot to catch up with her, following the path she was cutting through the crowds. The corners of his mouth twitched again when he saw exactly where they were headed - a door marked “Private” could only mean good things. Maybe that’s where the dancers went when they weren’t on stage. He vaguely remembered trying to follow one of them through a similar looking door once, but he was fairly sure it had been in a different part of the club. Then again, he couldn’t remember much of the events of that night. Perhaps he’d have better luck this time.
However, the corridor he walked into seemed completely devoid of dancers. “Nice” he said, taking in the clearly more expensive - and more sophisticated - way the corridor had been decorated, and the woman who was standing in it. Interesting. He hadn’t quite thought about it before, he was too busy being glad he’d got one over on Abe, but she had to be one of the club’s employees. From the look of it, she wasn’t a dancer, not unless the place had started doing theme nights and he hadn’t been informed - and the chances were, he would have been informed.
“So you work here, huh?” He asked casually, still following her lead. He wasn’t quite sure where they were going, but with any luck he’d be able to put the papers down soon and get to the important stuff. “You a fan of mixing business with pleasure?”
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on May 24, 2009 20:58:36 GMT 1
Jac led her self-elected courier down through the club, her brisk walk not leaving much time for the man to ogle the rest of the woman writhing and twirling around the poles. The din prevented talking until she got to a door at the back of the club marked ‘Private’. The door was little used, leading more directly to the administration part of the club rather than the dancer’s rest and changing rooms.
Deftly, Jac used an elbow to open the handle and backed through the door without having to release her bundle of papers or the ones floating in front of her. She used a heel to hold the door open for the man and when it swung shut, the silence in the corridor was almost as deafening as the noise outside. Jac visibly relaxed, shoulders less hunched. Ah, silencing charms – a girl’s best friend.
Her heels made dull thuds on the hard carpeted hallway floor, and she glanced briefly over her shoulder at his question. “Yes, I work here.” She didn’t miss his inflection in the way he said pleasure and she rolled her eyes as she led the way down the corridor. Did every man in this place aside from Abraham think she was their personal stripper? “I’m an accountant. I’m all business.” She might remind Silas of that, though she was somewhat worried about what his reaction would be.
They were nearing Silas’ office and her brisk step faltered. She had thought she’d spent enough time hiding away from him that she wouldn’t be quite so bothered with the prospect of seeing him. Her reasoning was wrong, however, and she felt a quick flush of anxiety. The door was closed, as usual, and she scurried past it at a hasty pace. Her office was around the next corner and she shouldered it open after pausing to figure out the logistics of levitating the stack of paper while undoing the locking charms on her door with the same wand.
The room was small, with a desk taking up most of the floor space and shelves covering every conceivable space on the wall. Everything was ordered impossibly neatly, and there was plenty of room for her to set the stacks of paper down on the desk. Pausing for a moment, she wondered if she had the strength to deal with Silas tonight. She had been planning to sit in her office and sort all these papers, but the idea of getting cornered by Silas ranked even lower than enjoying a drink with Abraham on her current scale.
Then again, sitting voluntarily with Abe for any length of time would only encourage the idiot. But sitting in her office, it would only be a matter of time before Silas came around and he had been in a very good mood recently and she daren’t threaten to spoil it. The choices were limited. She had clocked up more than enough overtime to take the last few hours of today off, and frankly after the pain she had just endured with those receipts, and the amount of work she still needed to do over the next few days, she deserved it. She was never one to flake out when there was work to be done, but sod it; she needed a break from Silas and his demands.
With a sigh, she took the quill feathers from her hair, leaned over the desk to set them in their well and opened a drawer. She took out a hairbrush and waved a perfectly manicured hand at the space on the desk. “Put the paper down there.” No pleases. No thank yous. With deft finger work, she eased her hair out of the impossibly tight bun and worked the brush though it. Ahh; much better. She left it loose and while putting the brush back, she fished out a mysterious green-filled vile from the back of the drawer. She checked the label before curling her fingers around it. If she was going to act out of character, she may as well cut Abe a break as well.
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Post by vincentdriscoll on May 26, 2009 17:28:59 GMT 1
Vinnie couldn't help but flash the woman another grin as she turned back momentarily to look at him. He wasn’t entirely sure she noticed, but hey, he was trying. Ish. Well, as close to actually trying as he ever got. Most of the time he just hoped his existence was enough to get him what he wanted. Unfortunately, the fact the woman in front of him was “all business” seemed to mean he was going to have to put more effort in. Or he could stick to staring at her ass. That worked.
“Business” He said, managing to make even that straight-laced word sound suggestive “Got it.” He could make that work to his advantage, right?
Vinnie was so busy contemplating all the things he could do to the body he was currently staring at, that he nearly walked into it when they slowed suddenly. “You alright, Doll?” He asked, not really concerned for her wellbeing, but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to put a supportive arm around her. Or any kind of arm, really.
However, almost as soon as she'd faltered, she was off again, speeding down the rest of the corridor into what had to be her office. The room was small, but tidy, and Vinnie's mind was suddenly full of creative ways to make a mess. “So you bring many guys back to your office?” He asked, leaning casually against a bookcase, a faint leer on his face. As far as he was concerned, when a woman gave him the brush-off, they were just playing hard to get. Plus, she'd made him carry her papers, she'd all but entered a legal contract to give him sexual favours.
He was glad to set the papers down - not that they’d been heavy, he’d carried full grown vampires before, it was just when he was in a room with a beautiful woman, he liked to have his hands free. It didn’t matter that she was skipping the pleasantries, he liked a woman who got straight to business, though it was doubtful that the two of them defined business in the same way.
Vinnie grinned as the woman started working her bun loose. If only the rest of her would come undone without any prompting. “I like a woman who’s not afraid to let her hair down” he said, only just managing to remain on the other side of the room - not that it made much different in the tight confines of the office. If she was taking her hair out, that probably meant it was the end of the working day for her, and she was going to drop the “all business” act. No need for him to rush her if she’d come of her own accord.
However, her bending over her desk didn’t really help his resolve to keep his hands to himself. Fortunately for them both, though, Vinnie was distracted, if only slightly, but the vile of green liquid she scooped out of the draw. “What’ve you got there?” He asked, genuinely curious. He’d taken his fair share of potions, even tried muggle narcotics, but this didn’t look like something he’d come across before. Perhaps this accountant wasn’t as uptight as she was pretending to be.
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