|
Post by Vivian Nazarova on Mar 23, 2009 1:32:20 GMT 1
It had been a rather routine sort of morning. Or, what Vivian considered being morning anyway. Despite the fact she woke up the minute the sun went down as opposed to when it went up she still thought of herself as waking up in the ‘morning’ subconsciously. Wake up, make bed, walk Rowdy for Ed, entertain self for hours.
Customers were always more scant as of a weeknight so Ed had taken the opportunity to go enjoy a good meal and all she had to do was sit there at the bar and fetch him if someone wanted to buy something because she was too young to legally serve alcohol herself. Sitting down drumming her fingers had kept her entertained for all of four minutes before she gave up to attempt another round at the dartboard.
Said dartboard had become her lifeline. There were only so many ways to entertain yourself in a bar when the alcohol was off-limits, and with places like the Hogs Head, heritage and booze were the only draws in the first place. Usually she just challenged random patrons to games or played solo, and she was steadily improving. If Ed let her she was thinking of perhaps betting on the game outcomes because drunkard’s aims usually left something to be desired. Rowdy had gone and zonked out after a fetch game of almost two hours so she didn’t have the heart to wake him just to entertain herself. Darts it was. She could still keep an eye on the bar while playing, right?
Dragging herself lazily off the stool, Vivian went over and pulled the darts out of the board. Whoever played last apparently had the hand-eye co-ordination of a mentally retarded puppy. Admittedly her first few tries were scarcely much better, but the last dart was fairly close to the centre. Hmm. Maybe she just needed to warm up first, that or it was one of those days.
|
|
|
Post by vincentdriscoll on Mar 23, 2009 2:07:38 GMT 1
Vinnie was bored, to put it mildly. He’d only arrived the night before at what was - the thought left an unpleasant taste in his mouth - his new home. He hadn’t started teaching any classes yet, but that was probably a blessing. He had no idea what he was going to do, he wasn’t exactly teacher material. He hadn’t even got a NEWT in divination! Then again, it probably said a lot about the subject, the fact that they’d employ someone who knew nothing about it to teach it to a bunch of kids. Either that, or it said a lot about how much they wanted to keep Vinnie out of the way.
Whatever the reason, he’d been shipped off to the school almost as soon as he’d agreed to take the position, but he had two weeks before he started teaching. He vaguely wondered who was going to be taking his lessons until then, before he realised he didn’t care. He was probably supposed to be learning the syllabus, so he knew what it was he was attempting to teach, but he had higher priorities at that point in time.
Finding a pub.
Fast.
Vinnie was well aware how close he was to the legendary Scores - he wasn’t exactly a regular there already, but he’d been more than once, to say the least. Still, if he didn’t want to get his ass arrested, he should probably try and remain somewhat teacher-like for a few weeks, at least. He had enough self restraint for that, right?
But not quite enough self restraint to stop him heading out into the grounds as soon as it was late enough for him to excuse himself and walking brusquely towards Hogsmeade. He had a thick coat on against the cold, though the long sleeves on his shirt were more out of a sense of self preservation - he didn’t think he’d pissed off anyone around this neck of the woods lately, but better safe than sorry. They might have forgotten his face, but those tattoos sure as hell were memorable.
Now, Vinnie though, wracking his brain for places-to-get-alcohol-in-Hogsmeade. Scores was off the menu, for the time being, at least. The Three Broomsticks? That was here, wasn’t it? He seemed to remember he’d gotten in trouble there trying to pick up jailbait on a few occasions. Kiddie pub, then, not what he had in mind. He knew there was somewhere else around here, somewhere that might actually be able to get him something stronger than a butterbeer, but he was damned if he could remember what it was called, or where it was.
It was shear luck that the next turn Vinnie took lead him right underneath a rusted, peeling sign that, to Vinnie’s trained eye, looked like just the kind of disreputable establishment he was looking for. Pushing on the door revealed a small room, dingy, but warmer than outside, and surprisingly cleaner than a lot of places Vinnie frequented. Still, cleanliness was of little importance - the rows of alcohol lined up behind the bar were. Vinnie grinned. It was fairly quiet - there were only about five or six other customers, and one of them was suspiciously slumped over his table.
As he moved further into the room, Vinnie noticed something was terribly awry - there was no-one serving behind the bar.
Well that was great. Maybe he would have been better off going straight to Scores. He considered apparating there, but he couldn’t quite remember where abouts it was, and there was that any apparation charm on the building itself, so he’d have to go out in the cold again - it was all too much effort, really. Fishing a packet of tobacco out of his coat pocket, he took a seat at the bar and began to roll - maybe sitting there would encourage someone to come up and serve him.
He was half way through licking the paper when he noticed a girl at the far side of the room, throwing darts at a well-word board. His lips quirking upwards slightly, he finished wetting the glue with a decisive, practiced swipe of the tongue and sealed the cigarette shut. “Hey Doll,” He called out, flicking his lighter shut and taking a long drag of his newly lit cigarette “Nice aim you got there.” Maybe the fact there was no one at the bar wasn’t going to put a dampener on his evening after all.
|
|
|
Post by Vivian Nazarova on Mar 23, 2009 2:45:12 GMT 1
Hmm, yeah, that was better. One bull out of three would do. After marking her score on the attached chalkboard Vivian walked back to have another shot before the door to the pub swung open. She felt a momentary, now familiar upswing of hope as she heard the door open, only to have it crash and fall when just another typical boozer made their way in. Ever since running into Scotty she’d been holding out hope that he may come visit now that he knew where she was staying. She knew it was silly, a seventh year didn’t have time for excursions during the week, but still.
Vivian hesitated, unsure if she should fetch Ed now or be sure if the newcomer wanted something first. In any case he seemed more interesting in rolling a cigarette than anything else so Vivian made another round pegging darts at the board, keeping an eye on him just in case.
It wasn’t long before he started looking in her direction so Vivian was out of an excuse to stay quiet. At his accent she almost backtracked. Wow, American, and pure Texan at that. Didn’t get many of those hanging around, and she shrugged off the use of the word ‘doll’ as just something Texan’s said. Being hit on was something she was unfamiliar with so chances were Vincent was going to have to piss on the line between ‘subtle’ and ‘unsubtle’ before she got the picture.
”Sanks,” she replied cheerily, smiling without opening her mouth, something she’d become quite used to doing now even if it did still feel a little unnatural. ”Did you vant anysing?” she asked innocently, meaning as far as drinks went and if she should go get Edward.
|
|
|
Post by vincentdriscoll on Mar 23, 2009 3:27:36 GMT 1
Vinnie could feel the nicotine working its way through him. Even after so many years as a smoker, it still did him the world of good to feel that calming chemical pumping round his veins. Of course, what it did for his lungs was less than the world of good, but he was a wizard, right? There were bound to be ways to sort out the blacked mess his lungs were becoming. And his liver, too, come to mention it. And in the mean time, the cigarette was providing a passable alternative to alcohol, though how long that would last was anyone’s guess.
More importantly, however, was the girl he had just engaged in conversation. She looked young, but this wasn’t The Three Broomsticks, so he was probably safe. Plus, it was a school night - if kids were sneaking out, they were doing it in groups and getting riotously drunk, not by themselves to play darts in a practically deserted pub. God, Vinnie thought, that was more logic than he usually put into his decisions as to whether to hit on someone or not. Maybe the nicotine wouldn’t suffice for much longer.
Vinnie was slightly taken aback at her acknowledgement of his compliment. That definitely wasn’t a British accent - European of some kind, maybe French? He hadn’t expected to encounter anyone other than your average Brit that night, but then again, the average Brit probably hadn’t been expecting a Texan to walk into town. Oh well, it didn’t really matter who was from where anyway. Plus, the only real difference between European countries was how many times they kissed each other, and Vinnie had never really paid much attention to that. As long as the kissing lead to screwing, he was happy.
“You’re welcome” He replied, another lazy grin spreading over his face “I always appreciate a lady with good wrist action” It wasn’t the most subtle of pick-up lines he’d used, but there had been worse. Not much worse, granted, but he had been using them on people whose first language was English. Over the years, Vinnie had come to the conclusion that foreign chicks generally required less subtlety - although that may just have been an excuse to give up on it. Unfortunately, he’d learnt the hard way that that rule did not apply to Mexicans. He had the scars to prove it.
“Did you vant anysing?”
Ah, so this was the elusive barmaid, was it? Vinnie considered ordering a fire whiskey right there and then, but the openness of the question was just too inviting “Yeah,” He said, taking another long drag on his cigarette “How about you show me some of your moves?” Another innuendo, he was on fire tonight! And even if it didn’t quite make it through the language barrier, at least it gave him an excuse to get up close and personal with his conquest-to-be.
|
|
|
Post by Vivian Nazarova on Mar 23, 2009 8:28:18 GMT 1
Huh, friendly sort of fellow. That absolutely wasn’t a problem, Vivian felt she needed the company and besides, a good accent always made for a more fun conversation when you got to concentrate on how someone was saying something as well as what they were saying. That was partly why Ed was so enjoyable. The Australian drawl was good fun, especially since he was so adamant that he didn’t have an accent, everyone else did.
Also, it would be nice to get a good challenger for a game of darts. That’s what he was talking about right? Darts? What else would it be? The game almost felt like cheating when the other party was conspicuously drunk, so it would be interetsing to play against someone who was actually sober enough to actually pronounce the name of the game let alone hold the pieces properly.
”Okay, sure,” Vivian smiled, walking over to pull the darts out of the board again then waving him over to come play. She’d just have to make it up to Ed later, as every drink not bought was a cut out of his income. ”I think I could haff a trick to show you if you are new, but I’m not sure how good you are at zhis so maybe you’ll just end up showing me a sing or two instead,” she said chipperly, holding out the safe end of the darts for him to have first shot.
|
|
|
Post by vincentdriscoll on Mar 24, 2009 0:47:07 GMT 1
Maybe living right up the end of this stupid country wasn’t going to be so bad, Vinnie speculated, taking a drag on his cigarette as he eyed up the girl in front of him. Of course, on attractive young lady didn’t mean the whole place was populated with them, but worst came to the worse, he could just go to Scores. It might be more sensible to apparate away from the area in which he was now supposed to be a respected member of staff at one of the finest wizarding schools in the world, but apparation was hard when drunk - last time he tried it he nearly managed to splinch his cock off, which would have been a terrible tragedy for all concerned.
Still, no need to apparate anywhere when he had just what he needed a scant few yards away. And what better than a game of darts to get the ball rolling? Well, there were plenty of better things Vinnie could think of - like getting naked, for one - but perhaps taking things slow, or as slow as Vinnie ever went, was a good idea, what with this being new territory and all.
The same lazy grin lingering on his lips, Vinnie crushed the remained of his cigarette into and ashtray on the bar and pushed himself off his stool, folding the packet of tobacco and papers back into his pocket. He may have been in need of that nicotine a moment ago, but some things were more important.
Girls were definitely one of those things.
And this one was seeming more and more like a dead cert each moment. You didn’t invite a guy up to play darts with you unless you wanted to have sex with them, right? And you sure as hell didn’t make come hither gestures like that. “Darling, I’m always willing to learn something new” He said, taking the darts with a wink “Just as long as you are, too.” Other guys would probably have enquired after a girls name by now, but in all honesty, Vinnie didn’t really care. He only needed it so he knew what to moan later, and in the heat of the moment, he never remembered anyway. That unfortunate fact had earned him a fair few slaps in the past, so he was steadily reaching the conclusion that it was better to avoid names altogether, clearly all they caused was trouble.
Lifting his arm, Vinnie flung a experimentally at the dartboard, just missing the bull and hitting the very corner of 13. “Well wouldya look at that.” He said a little more annoyed at how imprecise he’d been than he let on “I guess it really is unlucky for some. Maybe you’ll have to come over here and show me your stuff before I do one of your customers an injury.” He grinned again. Even inaccuracy had its upsides, he supposed.
|
|
|
Post by Vivian Nazarova on Mar 24, 2009 5:19:15 GMT 1
Ouch with the score. Vivian didn’t even need to put much effort into her throw and the dart stuck midway between the bull and triple line. Looked like she was going first then, and she walked over to recover the two darts. ”Down from 501?” she asked rhetorically just for the courtesy of asking. She wasn’t a fan of the shorter games, there wasn’t enough time to get anything good going.
”Try at least zhree fingers so you can get more speed,” Vivian suggested innocently when she returned. Normally she wouldn’t be so bold as to critique but he’d basically said that they were both there to learn, so there shouldn’t be a problem. ”Vhen you have pieces zhis long and wide you need to use more fingers for a better grip and good result. Don’t make a fist, spread your fingers for a better release. Start holding loosely then grip harder before you finish,” she suggested, trying to show the proper way to hold the dart with the one she was holding.
”Here, let me show you,” she added, stepping back to the ochre and attempting three shots, scoring a 58 after hitting a triple but almost flunking the other two throws. Eh, could be worse, she thought as she collected the darts, wiped the last game off the chalkboard and marked the new score.
”I’m Vivian, also,” she added, the assumption being he would supply his own name in return.
|
|
|
Post by vincentdriscoll on Mar 27, 2009 1:34:48 GMT 1
Vinnie attempted not to pull a face when the Russian girl threw a far better score than him without visibly putting any effort in. Losing to a girl? That just wasn’t on. It had only happened to him once before, in an arm-wrestle with a hag, and Vinnie was convinced she’d taken some kind of strengthening potion beforehand, or was at least a man in disguise. He had no intention of repeating that experience. Than again, could women really play darts? Maybe it had just been a lucky shot.
“Down from 501?”
Shit. Perhaps not.
Vinnie wasn’t even sure what had just been said, but it sounded far more complicated than he’d bargained for. Usually he just flung things - not always darts - and hoped for the best. He could hit a bull’s-eye most of the time, depending on how much alcohol was in his system, and that was what counted, right? What was the point in trying to hit some tiny segment on the edge of the board? Whoever invented this game had clearly never had to actually kill something. The idea was that you hit the target, not somewhere vaguely near it. Whoever it was was probably dead now.
But that didn’t help him right now. Right now, he had hot chick and a darts contest he didn’t quite understand the rules of. Did it really matter that much if he lost? He could just let her beat him, then with any luck they could move onto her beating him off.
“501, sure thing” He said, letting his eyes wander down to her arse as she walked over to collect the dart she’d just thrown. Not a bad view, he thought, cocking his head slightly to one side. Unfortunately, it was ruined when she turned round to walk back over with the dart. Still, at least that meant he had a chance of seeing what the view felt like.
Even better was what she said next.
Vinnie felt another grin spreading over his face. Surely this girl had to realise what she was saying? No one could talk dirty-darts so goddamn sexily by accident, it just wasn’t possible. Three fingers and speed - was that some sort of hint? Given the fact that the next moment she was talking about long, wide things, it had to be. And then she was gripping the dart. If that wasn’t an invitation, he didn’t know what was.
But then he had to go and supply her name, didn’t she - Goddamnit, now he’d have to remember it for later. “Vivian” He repeated, trying to get it firmly implanted in his memory “That’s a mighty pretty name you got there” He smiled again and leaned in towards her - he’d just covered the whole complementing crap, and she’d all but asked him for this, he was way overdue for making a proper move. Plus, at least this way he didn’t have to worry about making a fool of himself at darts “So, Viv - Can I call you Viv?” He didn’t wait for an answer “How about you and me go someplace private and I’ll give you something else long and hard you can give some release to.” And with that he slipped his hand into the back pocket of her jeans, just to seal the deal. Yep, just as he’d suspected - it felt even better than it looked.
|
|
Edward Johns
Adult (A)
The Hog's Head Barkeep
Totally screwed.
Posts: 118
|
Post by Edward Johns on Mar 27, 2009 4:42:52 GMT 1
To be pathetic and go crawling to Cassie, or not to be pathetic and go crawling to Cassie? That had been the question Ed had been asking himself all day. Luckily for him, he’d been distracted from answering it all day because of work. There had been more and more tourists flitting through the Hog’s Head’s doors and for some reason all of them from the past year had gathered in Ed’s bar all at once during the past day. Well it has seemed that way to the landlord. And the sad thing was that not only had there been pretty girls, Ed had not wanted to flirt with one, not one. There was definitely something wrong with him. It was all Cassie’s fault.
Along with the tourists there had been disaster after disaster. First the chef in the kitchen had disappeared... at lunchtime of all times, so Ed had to take up the position as cook, leaving an unexperienced waitress to tackle all the customers by herself. The chef had been found later on shacked up in the cellar with one of the aforementioned pretty girls.
The chef position at the Hog’s Head Tavern had been officially made vacant after that.
Glasses had been broken, alcohol stolen and staff lost. All in all it had been a stressful day and Cassie hadn’t of even been there. After everyone had left and Viv had woken up, Ed had decided to go take stock of the damage that had been undertaken that day in the storeroom but he really couldn’t complain, all those people had brought in money with them and the Hog’s Head prided itself on its not refunds policy.
Being alone in the storeroom had not been a good thing for Edward. It was there that memories of the fight with Cassie had come creeping back and that he’d decided he was no longer going to be a coward. Somehow, without Vivian noticing, Ed had crept out and gone to the Three Broomsticks where he’d proceeded to... stand outside in the cold for fifteen minutes looking wistfully at the building before giving up and heading home.
Screw that ‘not being a coward anymore’ business.
Having chosen not to apparate back, Ed walked sullenly back to his pub through the snow. He was furious at himself, he was doing exactly what Dacian wanted, and letting him win but what could he do? Cassie had made her choice, the two of them were practically married and he’d let it happen. Although he could fight dirty if he wanted to, all he needed were some wattle flowers to revoke the memories of how he and Cassie had been when they were younger. That was it! Somehow Ed was going to find some fresh wattle in the middle of Scotland, thousands of kilometres from their native land. Not only would they help win her back but they would be a genuine show of affection Ed knew how to do well to Cassie. He’d only ever given her flowers.
His slightly better mood instantly evaporated as soon as he stepped through the Hog’s door. Oh what the hell? Why was there a much older guy with his hand on Vivian’s arse? Judging by her expression she wasn’t entirely happy to have it there either. Ok, someone was gonna die.
“Get your hands off her right now,” he strode across the pub and gave the asshole a hard shove to get her away from Viv. After the first shove, Ed gave him one more to get the message across. “What the hell do you think you’re doing you pervert?” he shouted at the stranger, bringing himself to full height and ready for a fight.
No one touched Vivian, especially creepy old men like this guy.
|
|
|
Post by Vivian Nazarova on Mar 28, 2009 8:43:50 GMT 1
And thus, the guy succeeded in going in Vivian’s mind from normal to downright creepy in all of about 0.2 seconds flat. Although, really, if she had of had a better head on her shoulders she might have seen that coming a mile away. What other kind of conduct does one expect from the nightly visitors to the Hogs Head? After the polite tourists from the day went home, all the creeps shuffled in. Although that depraved Strip Club did well to filter off some of the grabby assholes, it was apparently not a place they could afford to visit on a daily basis so they all migrated back to the Hog until their bank balances recovered. Vivian had been come onto a few times already, although so far only by people about to roll under the table in a stupor so she hadn’t been expecting anything from someone who seemed completely sober.
“Eek!”Vivian’s eyes almost bugged out of her head with surprise and all the darts dropped from her hand, rolling away in different directions. In a flash she twisted out of the way, trying to slap his hand and missing narrowly. All of a sudden there was a loud growly shout and Vivian’s head snapped over to look. Oh thank God! In a flash Ed was over playing ‘cockblock in shining awesome’ and Vivan was practically hiding behind him, regarding Vinnie with a bizarre sort of terror.
|
|