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Post by Tamis Raynor on Jan 12, 2006 16:38:15 GMT -5
The Staff Antechamber was a quaint little room; as well as the most dingy in all of Hogwarts Castle. The furniture was outdated by centuries, looking as if it was the remnant of odd-ball pieces left over from sets of chairs and tables that had long ago rotten away. The wardrobe in the corner of the room was the same one from the days of Harry Potter and most likely had been there long before as well. The only thing (thank Merlin) with an unseasoned fashion to it were the armchairs and seat cushions, which were replaced on a annual basis.
Besides from lacking the glory of its mother-castle, the staff's place of sanctuary had another eye-drawing factor; the tiny woman currently crawling around on the floor.
Her usually well-kept hair was in a tangled array and frizzed besides, its chestnut color flicked by a strain or two of early-come gray that she rightfully should not own for at least a decade more. Her robes, a fascinating cobalt blue infused with a twinkle or bronze here or there, were dragging along the floor as she continued to crawl around erratically, occasionally peering under an armchair or so, muttering fiercely to herself.
She peered under a couch and caught sight of a tuff of white feathers and tried to scurry around the other side to catch the object of her chase, but it gave a startled "hoooot" and took off in the opposite direction. Tamis cursed again.
A bird that old should not be able to move that fast.
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Post by dinn on Jan 12, 2006 18:57:37 GMT -5
“Terribly sorry,” Elliot Doggerel said from the doorway, not at all sorry, in fact, “but I wasn’t aware this was now the Creep and Mutter room. I don’t suppose you know what they’ve done with the Staff Room?” It was certainly an embarrassing position to be encumbered in and Elliot didn’t envy the poor woman a bit – nor did he pity her. He was quite glad for the chance to belittle something. He’d been dreadfully bored since his arrival that morning.
Elliot Doggerel, of course, wasn’t all that put together himself. He always seemed to look like he was on the tail end of a long night and four pots of coffee, with bloodshot eyes and dark circles around them. He had with him, under the arm of his olive-green robes, his usual bundle of papers and quills and essays and pamphlets and journals.
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Post by Tamis Raynor on Jan 12, 2006 19:17:52 GMT -5
Head popping up from between two chairs, accusing gray eyes sought out the source of the mockery and landed on drunken looking man, appraising him from head to toe in a rather swift evaluation. Taking in they crimson quality in the whites of his eyes, the dark circles, and enough papers and journals to last a librarian a life time.
A few more wisps of hair perked from the top of her head and if being frizzed by some unknown force.
"Well then, Mr. Doggerel, I believe you should pay more attention to notices," she replied smoothly to his previous comment, taking him to be the newest addition to their staff as they had yet to cross paths.
She wouldn't know that at all if Fiona did not keep disappearing on her, half the time Tamis was the one hiring staff.
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Post by dinn on Jan 12, 2006 20:11:11 GMT -5
Damnation, the woman had the better of him. She knew his name, and he hadn’t the slightest who she was. For a brief moment he hoped that she wasn’t the Headmistress – then he would be in the unpitiable position of embarrassment.
He stepped fully into the room and began to lay his things out on the table as the woman crept about under the furniture, plainly under some sort of duress. “Oh yes, notices. I’ll be right on that.” A childish exchange, truly, but he restrained himself from sticking his tongue out at her turned back.
“Perhaps we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” Elliot said from the head of the long table. “You’ve plainly got the advantage over me; you knowing my name and myself not a clue who you are. I’d ask what you were doing, but I wouldn’t know who to address the question to.”
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Post by Tamis Raynor on Jan 15, 2006 19:41:30 GMT -5
Please to see that she had scored a mark, the slight woman ducked back down into her previous position. Drast! The blasted bird was gone again. The only particulars she had about continue use of the bag of worn feathers is that he is incredibly quick, which was very handy in her auror days. Now she was finally gripping the double-edge of the sword. She needed to retrieve a letter attacked to that divvy bird's leg!
Ruffled, she poked her head back up to see the other making himself home at a table.
"Tamis Gallaudet," she replied to him, it was still unusual to give her married name. Still felt thick on the tongue, so to say. But it was the one she was using nowadays, though most still referred to her by her Maiden and she stressed Raynor on the students to avoid name confusion with her husband.
"As for my current obligation. If you see a tuff of white feathers, try to catch it. I daresay he has something of importance," she stated wryly, blowing a tuff of frizzed hair from her face.
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Post by dinn on Jan 16, 2006 22:14:57 GMT -5
It was only when she mentioned it that Elliot became aware of the signs of a minor avian struggle. Some furniture was slid out of arrangement and here or there a white feather stood out from the dark hardwoods and rugs. But he made no move to assist, instead pulling a seat out for himself at the table and poking through his research materials.
“Has your tenure here been long?” he wondered aloofly as he set a small stack of papers to collate back in order. They were a shifty bunch of essays that preferred to converse with their friends than remain in order in his satchel. They were better than the surly books on childhood depravity that refused to say more than a grunt most of the time, but it was still quite troublesome. When an answer wasn’t immediately forthcoming, he leaned to the starboard to see her still occupied beneath a buffet.
“I say, has your tenure here been long?” he asked a bit louder.
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Post by Tamis Raynor on Jan 19, 2006 19:53:44 GMT -5
She had spotted the owl again, his bright yellow eyes mocking her from under a cupboard. The little devil was ignoring her quite purposely. She was going to strangle him when she got a hold of him. Get the letter safely and then throttle the lights out of the bloody bag of feathers.
Scurrying around under yet another table, her plans were to catch him from the other side of the cupboard and... Elliot's second attempt reached her hearing at last, causing the short woman to give a startled jump, banging her head against the table.
A flow of rather colorful curses came as a response, followed by Tamis herself, dusting off her robes and looking ready to murder.
Watching the other siting quite smoothly at the end of the table without a care in the world was not helping that predicament.
"Since this place reopened," she replied very dryly.
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Post by dinn on Jan 19, 2006 20:42:39 GMT -5
Elliot’s head shifted as if on a chunky ball bearing to look at the woman. She’d just sworn like a drunken sailor. The woman was plainly off somehow. He turned back to his work and realized that none of his professors had ever been quite ‘right’.
“Have you thought of perhaps just paralyzing the beast? A quick little Impediment Curse …” he made a little *poof* noise with his mouth and grinned devilishly. He licked his finger and turned the page. “Save yourself this hilarious little escapade.”
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Post by Tamis Raynor on Jan 20, 2006 18:30:29 GMT -5
She had thought about that. But the bird was old and the last thing she wanted was to give him a heart attack, despite what she might say and the trouble she was going through, Tamis had had the blasted owl for Merlin knows how long and he was reliable in delivering letters.
"I could. But I'm beginning to believe my efforts could be better spent getting rid of a larger pest in the room," she responded in a would-be-indifferent tone.
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Post by dinn on Jan 20, 2006 18:44:23 GMT -5
Elliot rolled his eyes and sneered at his work again. The woman was insufferable. He dearly hoped he wouldn’t have to see her often. And something wondered if perhaps they might have met before. She looked roughly his age, maybe younger, at least from the acute angle he could see of her shoulder and backside.
“Did you have as much trouble keeping the little beast in line when you were in school? He looks positively ancient.” The owl had finally made an appearance to Elliot and was preening on the arm of a Windsor chair near him.
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Post by Tamis Raynor on Jan 22, 2006 17:30:02 GMT -5
Another snippy reply was forming across the Deputy's lips but it froze before it had a chance to leave them. Looks, that was present tense.
Standing up, Tamis wheeled around, gaze locking on none other than the Aramis himself, whom tilted his head to the side and gave her a questioning hoot. The letter was still attached to his leg. Damnable bird was mocking her.
"He was trained by the Ministry to deliver letters quickly in times of emergencies, Mr. Doggerel. I received him old. I believe he might have been owned by another auror before me, so pre-used to boot."
It was the truth of the matter, though she had grown attached to the bird. She had to pay the DoMLE when she left to keep him though, now she was half-tempted to see if he was still returnable.
The man in the room was certainly not helping her temper any.
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Post by dinn on Jan 22, 2006 23:27:21 GMT -5
Elliot grinned crookedly, finally seeing the woman at her full stature, if it could be called that. She was positively miniscule, but not bad-looking. The owl hooted at her innocently, the little parchment note still tied about his scaley leg.
“You’re using an Auror-surplus owl? Perhaps you’ve not been given security clearance. The poor chap likely feels like a beleaguered carrier pigeon, second class, to have been demoted to delivering missives to a school teacher,” he said. The woman was as severe as a librarian-training drill sergeant.
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Post by Tamis Raynor on Jan 23, 2006 20:03:46 GMT -5
If she was a library-trained drill sergant, he was a very green private in need of learning how to organize books. On top of it, the owl seemed to ruffle his feathers in acquiesce to the proposal. As if she had not given the ruddy fluff-ball enough action over the years.
"Quite the contrary. But if you feel that obliged to peer into my personal life, I encourage you to run a background check."
Tamis' gaze remained locked on the bird however, who was gazing back just as intently. As if both were challenging the other to make the first move. It was a classic muggle western stand-off.
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Post by dinn on Jan 30, 2006 2:04:34 GMT -5
"Yes," Elliot said sarcastically, "That's how ordinary witches and wizards get to know each other - background checks. Honestly, you're batty. What's a little small talk mingled with inappropriate questions amoung collegues?" He sat back in his chair, no longer concentrating on the essay he was reviewing for a mago-pshychology journal.
"Are you always this abhorrant, or does the owl bring out the worst in you?"
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Post by Tamis Raynor on Feb 2, 2006 19:30:53 GMT -5
"Effrontery," she replied to his first question in a simplistic manner, tearing her own eyes off of the owl to return the gave that she know felt peering up at her. Probably the only time anyone would ever peer up at Tamis Raynor-Gallaudet; when they were sitting down and she standing. "And perhaps a lack of manners, though I am growing used to that."
Batty!? She had been called all sorts of names, and not all pleasant mind, but she had not been called anything near batty since her auror days when she took in a youth by the ear for interrogation.
"Abhorrent? A strong word to use," she stated wryly, "I did not know you were so quick to annoy, Mr. Doggerel. You should have told me, I would have tried harder earlier."
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