WHO Mundungus Fletcher & Jo Savage WHAT Jo is picking Dung up. WHEN Night time WHERE The streets RATING PG-13 for Dung's mouth STATUS Complete - log
Dung shifted, muttering underneath his breath as he pulled his coat around him a little tighter. The night was cooler than most and he was actually feeling it through his skin for once. He could see his breath as he breathed out and chuckled, amused by even the smallest thing. He closed his eyes and attempted to get comfortable in the corner he was sleeping him, the cold seeping through his pants to chill his arse and make it dumb. "Bloody feckin' hell," he muttered, shifting, attempting to make the potato bag he was using as a pillow a little more comfortable and little less stiff. "Canna man get a decent night sleep without all the chill?" he asked to himself loudly, before letting out a string of curses to make a sailor blush.
He rolled over onto his other side and stretched out, closing his eyes as he pulled the potato sake over his shoulders, using it for an extra layer instead of a blanket. "There we go, bet'er now," he said chuckling before closing his eyes, using his arms as a pillow as after a few moments drifted off into a light sleep.
Jo had been following lead after lead for at least twenty-four hours before she - without a shadow of a doubt - learned Mundungus Fletcher's position within a quarter of a mile. With lighted wand, she had been searching what had to be the dankest alleys in London until her gaze lit upon a slightly familiar countenance. She let her wand fall slightly, just enough to illuminate all the features of his rather grimy countenance.
"C'mon Fletcher," she said loudly, "I'll wager you'd like a bed and a pillow tonight."
Dung squeezed his eyes shut as he shifted away from the light as he woke up rather quickly. Years of living on the streets made it easier for him to get used to the sudden need to wake up when in danger. "Ain't not no law sayin' I ain't allowed ta sleep on th' streets," he replied opening his eyes up after a moment and blinking up at the girl. He took in the red robes instantly and scowled. "Ain't gonna need no pillow love, unless you'd like ta get down here and be mine pilla fer th' night," he offered with what he considered to be a charming grin.
"Don't be a louse," she hissed and placed one fist on her hip. "Honestly, Fletcher. You can come easily or I can use force." Which one she honestly didn't care.
"Ain't not one of those things, whatever they be," he muttered rolling slightly so he could sit up and peer at the girl. "I dun wanna, why'd you gonna bring me in anyways this time? Ain't done nuthin wrong yet," he asked.
"It'd look better if you'd just come in and talk, Fletcher," was almost pleadingly. Even if the man was useless she didn't necessarily believe that he was smart enough to do anyone a malicious turn. Her brow flattened. "Look, your mouth's put you in suspicion's way again. I've got the orders here to arrest you but I'd rather say you were willing. It'd help you immensely."
Dung sighed and stood up, using the wall as a brace as he fumbled in his pockets before finding his pocket. Another round of fumbling and he managed to find his wand and light his pip. "Whatever ye say dahlin'," he said pushing off and stumbling forward a little bit. "Wanna smoke, or perhaps the lass would like somethin' more?" he asked with a wink, taking another step closer.
... a step that Jo rebuffed with the heel of her hand to his chest. "Absolutely not," she said, but softened it with a wink before grasping his wrist and flourishing her wand. With a loud crack and no prior warning, she Apparated them into the very bowels of the Ministry into the long corridor of cells Fletcher knew so well.
"Your favourite, then?"
Dung shrugged. "Yer loss dahlin'," he said sticking the end of his pipe back into his mouth before blowing it out in a couple rings before he was in the minsitry. "Gotta love ye lot, always draggin' us poor urchins 'round like we're a sacka poatata's, ain't yet got a bit of nice inside that nice body of yers?" he asked following Jo down the corridor. "Is that one guard here, Salt or summathin'? Bloke played a mean around of poker," he asked before pointing.
"I was always partial to that one luv," he said pointing to the one at the end.
"I'll be sure to tell Pepper you asked for him specifically," she said, wondering again how many smarmy acquaintances one halfway noble man could possess. She would remind herself to ask this of Pepper later. "Nice has never gotten me very far. But I am good at extra blankets and toasted cheese sandwiches." Surely he'd not call a hit on her brother ...
The door unlocked and swung open as Fletcher pointed to it. "Votre chambre, Monsieur," was said in a faux-grandiose voice.
"Right, pepper, some sorta spicy shit that ya sprinkle on the ground or sommathin' like that," he repeated before shrugging his shoulder. "Blanket and cheese sounds good, how about ye come and join me and warm me right up?" he asked waggling his eyebrows as he stepped into the chamber. "Merci, Madame," he replied, mangling the words with both accent and pronouciation. "Canna ye get a few blokes up in here? I got a few pretty penny's ta spend, might as well make a game outta it."
... and she slammed the door after him and removed the key with a smart twist of her wrist. Though her lips were twisted into a smile she pitched her tone rather authoritarian and gave one smack on the bars. "Blanket, cheese, Pepper. That's it or you're pushing it, Fletcher. I'm sure all the Hitwizards will be down with you in two shakes."
And with that, she tossed the keys into her pocket and disappeared down the aisle. She did her job; now it was time to hand this over to Pepper. Tracking toward the elevator would give her time to perfectly formulate what she'd say to him about his buddy stinking the cell up and some simple cleaning spells.
Dung rolled his eyes as he removed his three outer coats and dropped them onto the chair before sitting down on the bed and relaxing with a sigh. It was much mroe comfortable that the streets that was for sure. He looked at the side of the walls and smirked, reaching into his pocket to draw out his wand. "Third times a charm eh?" he asked before scouring another line into the wall next to the others. "Or more like 10, no, 12? Ah fuck it, whatever the hell that number is," he mumbled to himself before shifting to lay down, intent on sleeping again.