RP: Where am I? Who: Gaspard Shingleton, Lisa Turpin, Joe (NPC) What: What the hell? Where am I? (Gaspard arrives in Nowhere, Maine) When: April 5th, 2020 (He went to sleep in 2008) Where: Cabin 13, The Pub, The Community Center Warnings: Maybe language? Completion Status: Complete
Gaspard had fallen asleep in his London penthouse, he was drunk, as he had been quite often since losing the election for Minister of Magic. Drinking was comforting. It was familiar. And it helped him forget his failure. Gaspard was not accustomed to failure.
He opened his eyes blearily, and as usual, there was a moment of confusion. Less normal, was that the confusion was warranted. This was not his penthouse flat. Was this London? Did he wander into the wrong flat? No, there are trees outside the window. Gaspard was tempted to put the blankets back over his head and hope this is some sort of alcohol-poinsoning-induced nightmare. But then he noticed the sheet of paper on the bedside table. Curiosity peaked, he sat up - bad idea, he suddenly felt as if he might throw up. But he leaned over and grabbed the note, maybe it would explain things.
"Welcome to Nowhere, Maine. You have been misplaced here. Good luck. PS. Your kitties are fine, they don't even know you're gone, and your business will be well taken care of."
Well, that was nice to know. And you know, his headache feels a bit better, too. Maybe he'd taken aspirin before going to sleep. Could be. Honestly, the night before was a bit of a blur. As were all the nights before it.
Hmm... He supposed he should explore. What is this place? What is "Nowhere, Maine"?
Gaspard got up to take a shower and was pleased to find the closet filled with his favorite sorts of clothes, and all in the correct size. Perhaps he could floo-call Eleanor and get the story, surely she would know why he was here, she always knew where he was and why. But there wasn't a fire place int he small cabin. Yes, exploring was in order.
Gaspard headed out of his Cabin, #13 he noticed, and immediately saw a Pub. Oh yes, that would be the place to begin! He entered the pub and took a look around - it was good sized, with rustic, somewhat charming decor. There was a young witch behind the counter. Then again, he hadn't found his wand, but he assumed she was a witch. Maybe she knew why he was here. And what "here" was.
"Excuse me?" He asked, making his way to the bar. She was attractive, if very clearly very young. "Can I ask your name?" He asked with a crooked smile, his blue eyes shining bright now that he was feeling much better. She looked up, "Gaspard Shingleton," She said with a chuckle. She'd read about him in History of Magic - he invented the self-cleaning cauldron, her father was a big fan.
"Well no, that's my name," he said with a friendly chuckle of his own.
"Yes, of course," she smiled, "My father is a big fan of yours, that's all. I recognized you from my History of Magic text," she explained. Ah, yes, so she is a witch! She must have gone to Hogwarts! That was a relief. "My name is Lisa, I run the pub, can I get you anything?"
"Well, some information would be nice, though I'll certainly be back to join you over a pint sometime, if you don't mind," He said, leaning onto the bar, glad to see her smile widen just a bit, maybe she didn't mind that he was old enough to be in her history books.
"I'd love that, of course! But for information, you'll have to got to the Community Center, I'm afraid all I do is run the pub." She said matter-of-factly, as if he should have understood that from the first time she'd said it.
"The Community Center, can you show me?" He leaned a little bit more towards her, lowering his voice in a helpless way. She nodded, looked around at the empty pub - it must not be lunch time yet here, he thought - and came around the bar. She was taller than him in her heels, which surprised him as he was 5'10" which wasn't the tallest for a man, but wasn't short either. She must be at least his height, she observed, and she was thin and willow and her long mess of curly hair was wild in the most gorgeous way. She wore simple muggle jeans - the tight kind, "skinny" they were called, he thought - and a matching denim top. Okay, so maybe this place wasn't so bad, if all the witches looked like her.
She lead the way, telling him a bit about the pub as she did so and then introduced him to a gruff looking man she called Joe. "Joseph." He corrected, and then, "You should get back the Pub, Lisa, lunch will be starting soon." She nodded with a pursed look and gave Gaspard a smile before turning and leaving. Gaspard couldn't help but watch her go.
"She's nice," he said, jovially, as she exited the office. Joseph gave him a disapproving look but didn't reply, instead he said, "Welcome to Nowhere, Maine," in a thick American accent. "Here's a list of jobs you can pick from, you have a month to decide, when you do, come back here and see Fay Dunbar, she'll get you all sorted out." He handed over a piece of muggle paper with a typed, neat list on it. Huh. Joe must be a muggle. Interesting. "Ah, yes, where's my wand?" Gaspard asked, only to get another disapproving look from Joe and a handwave toward the door.
Confused, but not worried, all Gaspard could really do was go back to his cabin and try to figure out a way to contact Eleanor. That would help, she would know what he should do, she always did.