Shay M. Loire
Witch
Photographer
Killing time and two birds.[on:Eyes open.][of:Eyes closed.]
Posts: 499
|
Post by Shay M. Loire on May 2, 2007 17:18:16 GMT -5
Shay had little to anticipate, but she was always nervous when it came to work, because she waited for something bad to happen. What she did have to worry, though, was her true performance in her job. She committed her heart and soul into the work, yet she had to negate with some sort of screw-up. It was true that she was nervous, and it had many reasons behind it.
Fear had at first struck her when her boss surprised her with what was pretty much a command to have a lunch break, but the fear was quelled during her walk through the winds of October when realized that maybe he understood where she came from. Still, it didn't stop her from going up to the bar in the Cauldron and trying to find some fast solution.
"Make it a firewhiskey, please," Shay said, her tone going lower with a sad sigh. It was a lightening fast decision, but it was overturned with a lightening fast change of the mind. "Oh, wait, no! Please make it a.... a water." She nodded at the man, hoping her quick change hadn't stirred too much annoyance. She could never readily make up her mind.
(closed)
|
|
|
Post by pevensie on May 3, 2007 8:23:34 GMT -5
Ian smiled brightly as a woman entered the pub and inn. The 'Cauldron was simply too empty during the school year. Oh, how he missed the clamoring of students and their families that stayed, ate, and drank at the Inn in the weeks approaching term. He did get a lot of employed wizards and witches looking to relax after a day's hard work, though, and this woman seemed to fit the bill.
She looked harried, worried, and stressed, typical of a person coming home from work, and Ian automatically reached for the cupboard underneath the bar which held the Firewhiskey. His prediction was proved correct a few seconds later, but the woman abruptly changed her mind.
Returning the bottle to its cupboard. He grabbed a clean glass, muttering, "Aguamenti." As he pointed his wand at the glass. It filled to the brim with glistening, clear water. "There you are." He said cheerfully, sliding the glass across the bartop towards her. More for something to do than anything else, Ian poured himself a Firewhiskey, taking a long draught from the tankard. "So, how's life treating you, Miss?"
|
|
Shay M. Loire
Witch
Photographer
Killing time and two birds.[on:Eyes open.][of:Eyes closed.]
Posts: 499
|
Post by Shay M. Loire on May 4, 2007 16:02:05 GMT -5
"Really, really good," Shay said with a sigh as she drank the water. Everything by itself was ideal: she had a great apartment with a great roomate and a great job. But perhaps it was more important to sober up in all aspects of her life. "But the irony is that I make it crappy. As in I voluntarily make it worse." Well, not voluntarily, she responded to herself.
She looked up to him, ready to apologize for her ramblings, but she held herself back. She figured that it was almost a bartender's second job to be the agony aunt. Instead, she attempted a feeble smile.
|
|
|
Post by pevensie on May 12, 2007 8:27:32 GMT -5
Ian listened carefully, then hopped up so he was sitting on the oak bar. The woman didn't look like the type of person who would try to make their life more difficult. He knew that such people existed, but he had never expected them to be like this. He tried to banish the stereotypes from his mind. Assumption was never a good thing. Just because she was a young, pretty, twenty-something didn't mean she was care-free.
"Well, how's that, then?" He asked. "What's the matter with your life?" It was a rather personal question he realized afterwards, so he added hurriedly, "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine."
|
|
Shay M. Loire
Witch
Photographer
Killing time and two birds.[on:Eyes open.][of:Eyes closed.]
Posts: 499
|
Post by Shay M. Loire on May 13, 2007 14:07:59 GMT -5
"Oh, it's fine. It's not a big dramatic soap opera as you'd think-- and believe me, the soaps in Mexico are absolutely littered with sob stories," she nodded as she spoke of what her life was like. He seemed open to listen to her woes, no matter how insignificant they were.
"Here it is: I came here not even a week after I graduated in California. Lots of mulling around the castle there--" she referred to Hogwarts, of course. "--and then I decide to stay here. And I do. Come August I get the job I didn't expect to get at the Prophet, and I still don't believe it. I think that's why I'm screwing up-- I don't think I deserve it, so I work too hard for it. But I've lost negatives, ran off news stories, eaten the Boss's good soup, and I accidently said I loved him in an owl that was really meant for my mum. Forget it! The Hefe thinks I'm a naca..." She drank the water in a bigger gulp, feeling her throat close up and get dry. The stress was getting to her two languages and mixing them up.
|
|