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Tweak says, "You love Hitomi, don't you?"

Romi Vane (vanegirl) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2015-06-20 21:10:00

Entry tags:

character: gregory goyle, character: romilda vane

RP: Wingbeat on a Saturday night (aka witch with a mission)
Who: Romilda + OPEN
What: Romilda heads to Wingbeat late Saturday night to let off some steam
Where: Wingbeat
When: Saturday, June 20th, 2005 (late night)
Rating: It's Romi being introspective: talk of drugs, drinking, and other such NSFW things.

It was after midnight when Romi made her through Wingbeat's entrance. She'd waved to the doorman, not bothering to stop (she assumed - correctly - that they all knew her and knew that if someone wanted to make a stink about it, nothing awful would come of it, being the owner's roommate and a very good tipper after all), and stopped at the bar to get a vodka double on the rocks before grabbing a small table to herself.

Work had her stressed - not the store, that was practically running itself now that the larger community had seen how it wasn't bringing moral decay to the wizarding world and had stopped trying to shame her out of business, after the first year things had really hummed along nicely. And now with the building fixed thanks to the Dominic, she'd had many less headaches there. But her other job, and taking care of her girls was getting harder. That was stressing her out. She wanted to bring in someone who might help her fix things, her magic was powerful in it's own way - she was a manipulator and bold, a Gryffindor through and through (though some might say she had a bit of Slytherin in her as well) - but there was only so much fear a little witch in her early 20's could strike into the hearts of her clients. And that was part of protecting her girls. The money was fabulous, and most of their clientele were good men and women - like Franklin - who just wanted company sometimes.

But others... Well, she sighed into her drink and gave a warning glance to a young man who seemed to be on his way to approaching her table. She didn't want to be bothered, unless it was by a very friendly face and even better a face that knew what was troubling her. She obviously couldn't talk to Charlie about such things, and she felt awkward whinging about it to Franklin. He didn't even like her other extra activities... She'd fiercely cut back on her muggle drug use and drinking since she'd been seeing him and that certainly didn't help her mood tonight. What she wouldn't give to just give a night away to a stranger with some good, strong pills and hands to match.

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goyle_g
2015-06-21 10:05 am UTC (link)

Greg had been thinking, in his usual slow way, about quidditch matches and his new hearing devices ever since he'd received them. Of course, it was the off-season which meant he couldn't actually go to a quidditch match no matter how much he wanted to. But he still wanted to try and find out if his earpieces really could cope with all the noise of quidditch fans and commentators. And the loudest place he knew of that wasn't a quidditch pitch was Wingbeat.

He'd already been there for an hour or so, drinking his cheap whisky, wishing he could afford more expensive whisky, just watching people and getting used to the fact that the world wasn't the awful cacophony he'd learned to endure after the battle. He could hear perfectly clearly when the barman address him, could hear when people asked him to move so they could step past - but the music was dimmed, the sound of bottles and glasses and footsteps gone almost completely.

While he was here, he thought he'd see how Weasley's spellwork compared to Pandora's and go test out the new, quieter, area. He was on his way, fresh whisky in hand, when he bumped into the chair of a woman seated at a table en route. "Sorry," he grunted. "Could you move in?"

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vanegirl
2015-06-21 04:56 pm UTC (link)

Romilda looked up slowly - the man was familiar, but only a little, and gorgeous in that tall, dark, and handsome way. But he'd bumped into her seat and she was in no mood. When he then asked her to move for him - move! - he eyes widened. "And why would I?" she asked, her eyebrow arching sharply and her tone brooking no mistake. She was not here to speak to people. Not here to bumped into.

She should have spoken to Charlie and gotten a private table, she should have thought ahead, she should have gone to a muggle club and just made a new, touchy, feely friend. Or she should have just stayed home, gotten high, and had a bottle of wine sadly by herself. She was full of rotten ideas lately. This thought softened her a bit, though, she had no reason to be mad at this stranger, and she crumpled a bit into herself and nodded, moving her chair in half a centimeter or so.

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goyle_g
2015-06-23 01:18 pm UTC (link)

Greg's expression was more scowl than frown. He had been polite, and yet he still got talked to as if he were an idiot. "Because I can't get past," he explained. "And because if I go that way -" he gestured to the nearest alternative route to his destination, past a crowded table "- then three people have to move." Greg might not be all that smart, nor particularly interested in making people's lives easier, but nor did he deliberately put himself in someone's way without a good reason.

When he finally did move, Greg grunted and squeezed past her without a 'thank you'. It wasn't easy - the gap was small and he was not a slender man. "There should be more space," he muttered, mostly to himself.

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