Who: Nephthys Spinks & Morag MacDougal
What: Errands, goats and confessionals
Where: St. Mungo's, London, and a Lithuanian-speaking muggle Catholic Church (Saint Casmir)
When: Early afternoon, Saturday 8th March
Rating: PG-13 for dirty thoughts
Status: Open;Incomplete
Jameson said the department desperately need more potions, particularly a sleep potion they could only get from St. Mungo's. There was an agreement between the Ministry and the hospital that the Department of Mysteries could request unrestricted amounts of certain potions. It was too bad little near mute Neph was the one left trying to explain that to the person behind the counter in the potions pick up. It had taken their supervisor just to get everything straightened out.
She left feeling awkward and ruffled, shifting uncomfortably in her skin. The daft one who couldn't get the idea through his head that such an agreement was on file with the hospital had been leering. Leering people always made her hope the ground would open and swallow her whole. Unfortunately it just never managed to do that. Out in the air, even if it was on the cold side, she relaxed a little. It was counter-intuitive, honestly. Out here there were more people and chances were some of them would leer as well, but at least she didn't have to talk to them. She didn't need them to take her seriously or stop staring at her chest.
Nephthys tugged on the bottom of her underbust corset as if to move it further down so it couldn't push her cleavage up quite so high but she did a good job lacing it and it wasn't budging at all. Somehow she didn't notice the faint sounds of chaos as she picked a direction to walk in randomly.
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