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Tweak says, "Don't steal my eyebrows!"

Marcus Flint (marcedflint) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2015-01-24 20:55:00

Entry tags:

character: blaise zabini, character: marcus flint

RP: The end of a long week
Who: Blaise and Marcus
What: Drinks and catching up
Where: Finnigan's, The Common Room
When: Saturday, January 24 2005
Rating: TBD, most likely SFW

Settling into a corner booth with a hint of sigh, Marcus glanced around the pub once more to ensure he hadn't missed Blaise in his initial search. Confirming that he had seemed to arrive earlier that the other man, he leaned back against the bench. Even though he hadn't taken much with him back to Flint Manor, getting everything in his flat had been more effort than he would have thought. After that and the ordeal of actually having Phillipa admitted, he'd been done with this week before it had even really begun.

He ordered a beer from a passing waitress, sipping at it slowly when it arrived, trying to rest his mind rather than dealing with the same circular thoughts that had been haunting him all week as he wait for Blaise.

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Sorry life ran away with me this week

dark_blaise
2015-01-31 03:00 am UTC (link)

Blaise's week had been insane. The beginning had been full of fielding the remaining owls and validating the decisions made by the board. He hadn't realized just how much weight his reports of the clubs would weigh along with their records. Thankfully he'd had some experiences after the war with unwarranted anger directed in his direction. Therefore he'd been able to successfully squelch a good bit of it without losing his mind.

"Stating with out me," he observed walking over to where Marcus sat, fire whiskey already in his hand as he pulled out a chair and turned it around before having a seat.

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My turn for apologies, RL exploded.

marcedflint
2015-02-05 01:24 pm UTC (link)

"Sorry," Marcus answered, smirking very slightly and not sounding at all apologetic. He didn't think the other man was actually insulted in any way.

The Firewhiskey in Blaise's hand was tempting, after the strain of the week, and Marcus sipped at his beer again to try to offset the feeling. While it had been a staple for him during the war, Marcus hadn't touched anything more potent than beer since his release, and he wasn't going to start tonight. "How're you?" he asked as Blaise sat.

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No worries mine does the same thing.

dark_blaise
2015-02-06 04:41 am UTC (link)

"Sorry you haven't already downed enough to not care whether or not I'm here," Blaise joked as he settled in.

"About to be harried," Blaise sighed taking anther swig of his drink. "These tournaments are always more trouble than their worth. The way some of these clubs act you'd think they were bringing in millions of galleons."

He then waved his hand across in front of him as if to clean a slate. "But enough shop talk. How are things going with you?" He knew Marcus was likely having a rough time with his mother but he had better manners than to ask about it directly.

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marcedflint
2015-02-09 11:34 pm UTC (link)

Marcus raised his glass slightly in an imitation of a salute, neither confirming nor denying Blaise's comment.

"Well, at least you won't be bored out of you skull," he responded, half-jokingly.

Shrugging at the question, Marcus was quiet for a moment, and then answered, "Been better, but then again, things could always be worse. Haven't heard anything new from the Healers about Phillipa, so I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not." On the one hand, it was nice to know that he had all the information he could about his mother's condition, but conversely, that hadn't been nearly enough before he'd gotten her admitted, so he had to wonder what was going if he still knew nothing more.

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dark_blaise
2015-02-23 02:22 am UTC (link)

"No, just fighting the urge to roll my eyes at each ridiculous request. You'd think the way some of these club members act that they were more important that a World Cup winning seeker." It never ceased to amaze him just how faux athletes could be when they thought the world was watching.

Blaise sighed as he listened to Marcus talk of his mother. "You're a better man than I," he complimented his friend. "If Mother were to ever find herself in a cycle of illness without any definitive answers I'd likely hex a healer or two." Sure, Michalea wasn't the best mother one could have but she hadn't been the worst either. Blaise couldn't imagine being in limbo about where she fell on anything. Zabini's were always quite decisive and at least pretended to have their next steps all mapped out.

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