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Tweak says, "Backstreet's back ALL RIGHT?!"

hopalongcharlie (hopalongcharlie) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2014-11-19 15:22:00

Entry tags:

character: charlie weasley, character: genie de la lune, character: tristan travers, status: complete

OPEN THREAD: Interview Day
Who: Charlie Weasley, NPC Bobbi & OPEN
What: An assortment of interview candidates
Where: Wingbeat
When: Wednesday 19th November
Rating: SFW (potential for language)

Charlie had stuck on rather smarter clothes than usual, meaning he'd put on smart trousers and a shirt rather than jeans or combat trousers and a random t-shirt. Bobbi had given him crap when she arrived to help assessing people's bar skills if they got past the initial interview and wanted to work the bar. She was better at the fancy stuff than he was, sadly she was also one of the people who had given in her notice and would be heading off to take up a job in Spain within a month.

"You've got the tea and coffee on?"

"Yup. Biscuits are on the tables too. Let's hope you get a good bunch. Otherwise you're going to be screwed when we leave you." She gestured towards the tables and stools just to the side of the bar that people usually flooded to with their drinks and to get off their feet. With the lights up the black tops with glowing dragon designs looked a little odd and gaudy but they worked well as a waiting area.

Charlie was going to take the candidates up to his office one at a time and let the candidates use the tables as a waiting area. Plus with Bobbi around to take in today's delivery and keep an eye on them he was sure everything would be just fine. He was just hoping he'd find at least a couple of people who would fit into his eclectic team. Plus Bobbi herself was a bit of a test. She was a muggleborn lesbian with a look best classified as somewhere between goth and punk with spiky bright white hair with multicoloured streaks. She looked sort of like a stiff breeze could knock her over but she could hold her own pretty well with wand or even fists if she had to.

"Let's see who turns up then," he said, grabbing the notice he had made and opened the front doors, charming it to stick to the open door.

The sign read:

Open for Interviews
2pm-6pm
Please come in and wait at the tables near the bar.

He'd added a couple of extra anti-theft wards just in case anybody got any ideas, but there was almost nothing on the premises outside of his office that would be easily removable other than the contents of the bar, and Bobbi was on hand to keep an eye on that.

Please add your own tags and threads to the downstairs chatting amongst whoever turns up. If you'd like to do the interview bits open up a thread for your character and Charlie in the upstairs bit if you can't catch me.

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	Waiting Downstairs hopalongcharlie 2014-11-19 03:54 pm UTC (link)
	Charlie was initially around to welcome the earliest candidates through the door. As soon as they had more than one arrived he planned to take them upstairs one at a time for individual interviews. For now though he was sat at the table furthest into the corner, sipping a cup of coffee and waiting to see who turned up. (Reply to this) (Thread)

Tristan and Open If Someone Wants to Hop In (Around 4:30)

alliterative
2014-11-19 05:01 pm UTC (link)

Tristan stood outside Wingbeat, off to the side, staring down at his pathetic little CV. He had no work experience, and the piece of paper he'd spent a lot of time working on reflected that. He'd put down his Hogwarts achievements (such as prefect and then Head Boy), as well as skills he thought might come in handy for either position (such as organisational skills that might be useful for either the cloakroom or the bar, and an attention to details and a skill with potions, which he thought might be useful in mixing drinks despite his lack of experience there). He used his brother, his cousin, and Vikesh Moon as references, silently thankful at least one of his references wasn't family, though he was thankful for Julian and Pandora as well. His probation worker's name and contact was on there as well, along with a brief note about his conviction, incarceration, and release. If it weren't for all of that...

If it weren't for all of that, he didn't think he'd be trying to get a job anywhere, especially not a night club. He had nothing against night clubs, or so he assumed. He'd visited Wingbeat the other night, and he didn't find it to be as horrible to him as he thought it might be. But that had been a Sunday, and Sundays surly weren't the most popular nights at clubs, right? He chewed his lip as his stomach knotted, both nervous about possibly getting a job here and possibly being rejected.

He'd just come from his meeting with his probation worker, Alden Anderson, told him about the interview and his other attempts to find leads on jobs. For some reason, he'd seem sceptical that Tristan would follow through with anything, and part of him wanted to prove Anderson wrong. Even if he was rejected at every turn, he was going to try. He was going to ensure that that man was flooded with owls asking about him, that his hand cramped from having to write reply after reply. That... well, mostly that Anderson saw he was trying and might find himself a little inconvenienced at times by the random owl here and there with requests for information from potential employers.

Sighing, Tristan steeled his nerves and adjusted his robes -- simple, black, and about as professional as he figured he could get without looking like he was going to an interview at a law firm or the Ministry. He double checked his watch (half-four. Still plenty of time before the interviews were officially closed), held his head up (but not so up that he came off like he was looking down on anyone), and made his way inside the club for the second time this week.

The club definitely looked different during the day than it had during the night, though he supposed that was in part because of the open interview. It wouldn't make sense to keep candidates quite literally in the dark. He noticed details here and there he hadn't noticed in the dark, and he idly committed them to memory. Spotting where a few others were seated, presumably waiting for their turns, he wandered over to am empty black top, sliding himself into the seat. He carefully slipped his CV into an envelope he'd gotten from Anderson, set it down on the table. He gave a few nods and polite smiles to some of the other potential employees and began idly tracing the glowing dragon design on the table.

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