Tweak

InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I feel so pretty..."

Dean Thomas (artistdean) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2015-04-01 12:22:00

Entry tags:

character: dean thomas, character: millicent bulstrode, character: seamus finnigan

RP: The Name's the Thing
Who: Dean, and Seamus, and OPEN thread
When: Wednesday 1st April
Where: Finnigan's Pub
What: Dean has a shift at the pub, but a bit of an issue with names.
Rating: Potential for Language

Dean was having an awkward day. He'd very nearly called his ex-girlfriend an 'overblown French tart', which was not only a little strong, but also far from the point. Then he'd run into Braith and completely failed to use her first name at all. He had a feeling it was some sort of April Fool's prank. He hadn't worked it out until he opened his journal to see the note from WWW. He began cursing George, only he didn't because that clearly wasn't going to work. He'd ended up owling to postpone a meeting with a potential client because of how difficult he thought it might turn out to be.

He was thankful that he had an afternoon shift at the pub because frankly not calling most people by name was going to cause far less problems in a pub where he might not know people than it was in a client meeting.

As he walked down Diagon (for the exercise) he overheard several people who were clearly suffering from one issue or another. He clearly heard a somewhat familiar figure muttering "Gwenog Jones is going to kill someone for this!", and another person trying to get to describe something with a great many short words.

Pushing open the door to the pub he slipped into the back and dropped off his coat and bag before coming back to the bar.

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openbottle
2015-04-07 01:02 pm UTC (link)

Seamus grinned and sketched a mock bow to Dean, before realising kings weren't supposed to bow. Not that it mattered. "I know you did," he said. "Why do you think I went all the way home to get it?" The real answer was that he had a bias towards Greencastle's fish and chip shop, but that didn't need to be voiced.

Answering Dean's question turned out to be a challenge - and Seamus busied himself with wiping down glasses and clearing his section of the bar of any empty bottles while he tasked himself with finding a way to do so that wouldn't sound completely unnatural. "Oh, you know," he said eventually. "This and that. Chips, soup, eggs." He didn't want to say to much - knowing Dean was probably listening out for a repeated pattern that would be much more obvious in a list than any other kind of sentence. "Go ask him, if you want."

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artistdean
2015-04-07 02:13 pm UTC (link)

Dean frowned as Seamus didn't reply to his food question right away. Seamus was making busywork with his hands and Dean could tell. He was obviously having to think out his reply, but when it came it was perfectly coherent, but obviously he'd had to think it out, and that list of items was bloody weird. Leaning back against the bar Dean considered Seamus. He could still say people's names, things beginning with lots of different letters, including the same one as his own name, he could say yes and no. That list though, it was a chips, soup and eggs. He squinted his eyes at Seamus suspiciously and went to ask the chef what was going spare. "I'll be back," he said.

He returned a couple of minutes later with a bowl of the pasta and sauce dish of the day, which involved chicken and spinach. He was a big fan of that particular combo and had flung a bit of chilli on the top too, very suspicious of Seamus not telling him it was available.

"So, there was this," he said, holding the bowl up and settling himself on the stool behind the bar. "You know, this thing I am very fond of." He raised his eyebrows at Seamus meaningfully before scooping up some and eating it, eyes still on his friend. His eyes flicked down as he made a happy hum of pleasure at the flavour.

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openbottle
2015-04-08 01:37 pm UTC (link)

Seamus could see the suspicion in Dean's gaze, but he endeavoured to at least appear unconscious of it. If he was going to bluff this out until the end of the day, he couldn't get flustered by every little thing. And then Dean loped off to the kitchen, ending Seamus's need to continue fiddling with the glasses. He took a couple of orders while Dean was gone - smiling as one woman asked for 'a beef in a bun thing, please, with red sauce on the chips'.

When Dean returned, Seamus moved to stand behind him, peering down over his shoulder at his bowl of pasta. "Oh?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "That's good, then. Tuck in." Maybe if Seamus diverted the question, Dean would conveniently forget his suspicions - at least for a while. Unfortunately for Seamus, many of their more commonly discussed topics were currently off limits. Quidditch (in general, as well as the Kenmare Kestrels specifically), Susan, Battlescars. "How are West Ham d- this year?" he asked, nearly tripping up in his haste to move topics. "Good?"

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artistdean
2015-04-08 07:00 pm UTC (link)

"You can't say it can you?" he said suspiciously. Not that he was sure what it was that Seamus couldn't say: pasta, chicken, spinach, maybe all three. He ate a few mouthfuls of the delicious food eyeing Seamus as he talked. Then Seamus asked about football, which wasn't actually suspicious, he asked every now and then, knew Dean kept an eye on the scores, but how he said it, that missed word. Doing he assumed. Back to that in a minute.

"Actually they're doing pretty well, they're looking like they'll head for the playoffs to get back into the Premier League, which is great, it's been a few years," he said. He smiled and dug into his food again, he could have gone on about how well the different players were and weren't doing, but Seamus' level of interest probably wasn't that high. And his speech impediment was far more interesting. Time to think while he finished eating. Seamus could always serve the customers since they were both here.

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openbottle
2015-04-13 12:54 pm UTC (link)

As far as traps went, Dean's was pretty obvious - and Seamus chose to ignore it. If he didn't ask what he couldn't say, then Dean couldn't demand he say it. They could just bypass the topic entirely. Or at least, that was Seamus's plan. Whether it worked or not was still up for debate. At the very least, his football plan seemed to be working - and he grinned as he watched Dean light up with enthusiasm. "That's great!" he said, genuinely pleased. He didn't really follow football anymore, though he sometimes found time to nip round to Dean's family's place to watch a match with him. Still, if he were going to support anyone it would be West Ham, and he was glad they were doing well.

"When will you know for sure?" he added, after he'd returned from handing out two pints to two new customers. He wasn't sure how playoffs might work, whether it was one match or the cumulative result of many matches. "We should watch a match. It's been a long time." He'd stumbled again, there. Tried to say 'ages' and managed to convert it at the last second. The problem, he decided, was that he was too comfortable with Dean. He wasn't used to watching what he said around him.

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artistdean
2015-04-13 07:28 pm UTC (link)

He hadn't honestly thought that Seamus would give himself away that easily, but it had been worth a try, and his silence had basically confirmed that he at least had a problem saying one of the words. New round of observations it was then. He could let football distract him for a little bit first though.

"The season proper ends in April and the playoffs are early May. I mean it's only three matches total, but to get there we have to finish in the top six. If we can win the final string of matches we'll manage it," he said with enthusiasm. He smiled. "Sure, we can do that. I'll have to look up which ones are on TV, maybe invade my parents' house to do it," he said. He did have a TV himself but it could be decidedly hit and miss as to whether it worked or not, mostly due to how much magic he'd been doing at home. "Or maybe a pub, but they get pretty crowded on match days with people who couldn't get match tickets," he said. That was more of an impression he'd got rather than through experience since he'd been too young to go until after the war and then the thought of the crowds had put him off going.

"Two seconds and I'll help with customers," he said, waving the bowl he was scraping around with his fork, chasing down as much sauce as he could without actually licking it. He stood up and stuck his empty bowl back through the hatch and was just in time to receive an order for a customer. "I've got a burger and chips with ketchup here," he said to Seamus. "Who's it for?"

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openbottle
2015-04-14 01:34 pm UTC (link)

"Good thing your mam loves me, then," Seamus said, smirking. Invading Dean's family home was no more a problem than going to his - though they seemed to do it slightly less often. "You just let me know when the games are on, and I'll -" He paused, the words he'd been intending to say refusing to come and his brain scrambling to come up with any kind of replacement. "Uh. I'll sort our work hours out to fit." The sentence still worked just fine, but it had lost some of the verve with which Seamus had expected to embellish it.

Fortunately, Dean provided a new topic almost instantly and Seamus looked around for the woman who had ordered. He didn't have any kind of official table numbering, though Dominic had offered more than once to set up some kind of magically run system. "There," he said at last, nodding his head in the right direction. "Lady in the pink top." She'd retreated from the bar to sit by the window, but of course Seamus couldn't very well say that.

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artistdean
2015-04-15 12:53 pm UTC (link)

"Good job we all support the same team, you mean," he said. He didn't want to imagine what the chaos would be if his family supported different teams, arguing over which matches to watch wouldn't have been fun. He perked up when Seamus seemed to have trouble with his words, but since he couldn't figure out exactly what he'd originally been planning to say, even with the hint of his actual words. "I'll let you know," he said, still looking at Seamus suspiciously.

Dean slipped out and delivered the plate to the woman, who murmured her thanks in a distinctly northern accent. "Ta.. a lot." While frowning at herself. It did get Dean thinking though. He flicked his eyes between the woman and Seamus as he moved back to the bar. "Well, she's got word problems," he commented. "I think ... the local jokester managed to get a lot of people."

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openbottle
2015-04-16 11:58 am UTC (link)

Seamus huffed. "Of course we do," he pointed out. "Some of us know how to be loyal." It was true that, before Hogwarts, Seamus had supported his nearest Northern Irish team - and still did, in a vague sort of way, but he'd never dream of switching his English allegiance from West Ham. He gave Dean a friendly sort of nudge as he spoke, then darted away before Dean could retaliate.

He watched as Dean wondered over to the correct table and delivered the food, smiling when he returned. "Mm," he agreed. "It must be good for sales, though, or George would stop it." He frowned slightly, considering his words. "Well. Might not. It is George."

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artistdean
2015-04-16 11:43 pm UTC (link)

Dean just rolled his eyes about the loyalty comment. He was plenty loyal. The nudge, however, he was about to retaliate to by chasing Seamus when a customer walked up to the bar and he had to turn away to serve them. He gave Seamus a pointed look.

"I seriously doubt it'd stop him," he said, but he was distracted. For one thing the woman's speech pattern had made him think, and for another Seamus seemed to know what was going on with her since he must have taken her order. Which meant that maybe she had the same problem Seamus did. He squinted at Seamus again. The phrase he was used to hearing was 'ta very much', and he'd sort of been thinking that it was longer words that Seamus had a problem with, but very wasn't long, then again neither was pasta. Ve-ry, pas-ta, and now that he thought about it chi-cken, spin-ach. He tried to review what else Seamus had said to him since he arrived. He couldn't think of anything longer than a syllable that Seamus had said to him. How could he test the theory though? He racked his brain, trying to think of something that would force Seamus to either get really creative to avoid a word, or acknowledge that Dean had worked it out. Of course while Dean's actual poker face the few times he'd tried playing poker wasn't terrible, unless he was actively trying his face tended to be a bit of a giveaway.

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openbottle
2015-04-20 10:17 pm UTC (link)

"There has to come a point," Seamus said, though he wasn't 100% convinced himself. His business seemed to mean a lot to George, and Seamus was pretty sure he'd call any particular prank to a halt before the point it threatened to run his shop into financial ruin- but probably not pranking in general.

He was about to expand on his theory, carefully, when he noticed Dean's face. Seamus had to smother a laugh. He waited, pretty patiently, for Dean to come back from his musings. "So cute when you think you know some thing I don't." Whatever magic was in the chocolates forced him to hit 'some thing' a little weirdly, distinguishing it from the more natural pronunciation of 'something'. "You only get one guess."

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artistdean
2015-04-20 10:29 pm UTC (link)

Dean shrugged. "Eh, probably, but then again I remember the common room, testing on the firsties," he said. Of course that reminded him of Fred and his smile was slightly sad. "Although you're right, there probably is a point, even I'm not sure what it is." He also knew that George had always made sure everything was safe before it actually went on the market.

He groaned when it became obvious his face had given him away. How to word it. "I think," he said slowly, "I think you can't say words with more than one... what's the word? Sound thing? Syllable!" he said triumphantly, dredging up the word from a long-forgotten English class.

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openbottle
2015-04-21 12:44 pm UTC (link)

Seamus was a little surprised that Dean chose to guess right away rather than pressing him for further evidence - but he grinned broadly as Dean muddled his way through the sentence. "Smart man," he said, holding up a hand for a high five, even though he'd technically lost their bet. Dean had won, and what were best friends for if not to share in their triumphs? "Guess this means you get cake."

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artistdean
2015-04-21 02:48 pm UTC (link)

Dean returned the high five with a grin. "All the cake is mine!" he crowed, and then grinned. "Well, no, I'll share, but that doesn't sound as good." He did a silly little victory dance that was more of a wiggle with his hands in the air than anything else.

"I was trying to think of something to force you to try and say, but I couldn't think of anything," he said and shrugged.

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openbottle
2015-04-22 01:42 pm UTC (link)

Seamus's instinct was to wrap his arms around Dean's suddenly-available waist as hie wiggled - so he did, being careful to approach from directly in front of Dean so he wouldn't feel ambushed. "All the cake?" he asked, raising an eyebrow when he let Dean go. "I did not say that. One cake. Just one." He held up a finger to be utterly clear about this point, but he was grinning nonetheless.

"It's not so bad," he agreed. "Thank god your name is 'Dean'. I could not fool Bones or... cub." It felt weird using his nickname for Dennis when he wasn't around, but both 'Dennis' and 'Creevey' were off limits right now.

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artistdean
2015-04-22 03:01 pm UTC (link)

Dean just grinned more as Seamus came and hugged him, still wiggling for a couple of seconds before wrapping his arms around him. He let Seamus go as his arms relaxed. "True, but if you get a large enough cake I will share it with you," he promised.

He snorted at Seamus little work-around, not that he'd have done much better himself at the moment. "At least you can say some names. I mean the overblown French tart thing was funny in my head, but not all that helpful on the whole trying to be professional thing." He shrugged and nudged Seamus.

"We should probably do work," he said, gesturing vaguely to the rest of the pub. Not that it was all that busy, but there was always a little something to do.

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