InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "How 'bout that heat?!"

npc1 (npc1) wrote in tinworth,
@ 2009-10-31 21:16:00

Entry tags:

character: gilbert wimple, character: npc, character: sarah fawcett, character: terence higgs, character: tracey davis, date: october 2003, place: m: polzeath

Characters: Richard the Barman and anyone who comes to visit
Locale: The Oyster Catcher, Polzeath
Date: October 31, 2003
Open? To everyone!
Warnings? None

It was lucky he enjoyed the whole Halloween thing, Richard had decided. Fancy dress was not everyone's cup of tea, there were plenty of people he knew who left it to the Americans and went binging on Guy Fawkes instead. Richard figured both were perfectly acceptable, and reasons for good tips at work, no matter that it meant dealing with a few more drunks than he'd like. Not to mention the excuse for birds to dress like slags and not be thought ill of.

"What can I get for you there, love?" he asked, as the second Amy Winehouse leaned her way up to the bar, tits precariously close to the top of her dress.

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disadorable
2009-11-02 12:47 am UTC (link)

Leaving Bannerstone in Atwell's capable hands was easier said than done, but as Tracey was determined to drink more than she should and dance her way into November at the Oyster Catcher's annual fancy dress party, she managed. His complaints were still whisper thick in her ears, but were drowned out easily enough by the band and the whoops of those further on their way to merriment than Tracey yet was.

Her hair had returned to the usual shade, and she'd piled it as artfully as she could on top of her head, for her costume demanded nothing less. She'd had enough of the hag, and true to the blood she'd inherited from Atwell, a costume change had been well in order. She'd discovered the dance costume in his collection over the summer, and had he been able to wrest it from her grasp he no doubt would have. But, corporeality was victor, and she wore it out with every promise not to spill anything on it, or sweat profusely, or engage in any acts of penetration.

Naturally, she'd take it off, first.

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howfascinating
2009-11-02 01:37 am UTC (link)

It had to be said, Gilbert was going out on a limb with his costume. He wasn't even sure any of the wizarding folk would get it, and the Muggles certainly wouldn't. Still, if all else failed, it was a silly outfit on a holiday that encouraged silliness.

He had on a bathing cap, sunglasses, a frilly tuxedo shirt, Bermuda shorts and a pair of stuffed ducky slippers. This was just about the only day of the year he could wear such a thing and not die of mortification--and even then, it was taking an effort not to run right home and just change back into his robes.

He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and strode bravely into the Oyster Catcher as Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle.*

*From Issue 31, The Bewitched Bathtub, but no one but Stan would possibly get that detail.

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	disadorable 2009-11-06 04:05 am UTC (link)
	As it happened, Tracey worked up a considerable thirst dancing with a fervor the lousy Muggle band did not deserve, and warmed by an array of liquors, she clapped Gilbert on the shoulder without a thought for his comfort or the force of her hand. "Where's the pool, Gil?" She wasn't drunk, no. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	howfascinating 2009-11-06 04:17 am UTC (link)
	He might have staggered. A little. Inebriated women thumping him on the shoulder was not something he'd thought to brace for. "Tracey, hi." Was she stable? She looked like she might be swaying. "I'm, ah, it's a character from a...book. Do you maybe want to sit down? Have some water?" (Reply to this) (Parent)

terence_higgs
2009-11-03 07:24 pm UTC (link)

Terence had heard more than one guest at the haunted house mention the Oyster Catcher, so the Muggle bar seemed like a logical next step in his Halloween celebration. An old pair of denim dungarees and a ratty green and black jersey served as both Muggle disguise and costume: football hooligan!

There was just enough room to stand at one end of the bar next to a girl who appeared to have a Quidditch-themed costume in spite of being rather obviously a Muggle. Her black wig was crowned with a Quaffle-sized ball of hair and her 'Bludgers' were practically bursting out of her dress. Whatever she was meant to be dressed as, Terence heartily approved. He favored her with a winning smile as the barman drew him a pint.

Terence turned to scan the rest of the crowd. It looked as if most of the patrons had put far more time and effort into their costumes than he had with his!

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disadorable
2009-11-04 01:43 am UTC (link)

Tracey had indulged in a few drinks, idling alone at the bar, before she spotted Terence. She brightened, for these Muggles, while entertaining to watch, hardly had a thread of decent conversation in them, and she'd yet to stumble on a costumed bloke who was fit enough to skip conversation all together. Sometimes she wondered how she got on in Tinworth, socializing with pre-pubescent girls all day, but the thought depressed her, and she lifted her hand for another import before walking over to Terence, this time with obvious intent.

She'd snuck up on him enough for one night, hadn't she?

"Your mum let you out of the house looking like that?"

	terence_higgs 2009-11-06 12:22 am UTC (link)
	"Recently? Just you and Uncle Atwell. It's a toss-up which of you has the better legs." More ogling, since she hadn't objected the first time. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	disadorable 2009-11-06 02:56 am UTC (link)
	Mid-swig, Tracey grinned and swallowed. "Atwell," she said in a breath. "Though I've got a nicer arse. Now, give it a rest." With a hand, Tracey eased Terence's chin away from the angle his eyes had been favoring. Her tone was playful, but there was an edge to it. "Flattery will get you everywhere... eventually. Do you dance?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)