Who: Open to all! What: Pub night Where: The Leaky Cauldron When: Saturday evening Status: Open - Feel free to jump in with Fiona or start your own subthread. Rating: No smut here please.
Unless a special occasion cropped up, Saturday nights remained the busiest evenings at the Leaky--even on a cool rainy night like tonight with a steady rainstorm rolling outside, the pelting rain and low rumbling thunder providing a soothing backdrop to the crackling fireplace. Their regular crowd of merchants, military members, and ministry workers from all walks of lowborn magical life filed in shortly after suppertime, along with the members of nobility who enjoyed mingling with their lowborn comrades (or even those who simply wanted a break from the uppity ambiance of popular highborn only establishments), grabbing drinks and starters and cozying up to friends in tables and benches and standing around in small groups.
Fiona Killick took her place behind the bar in her regular work dress with a scarf tied up in a makeshift headband to keep the hair from her eyes as she worked. She moved up and down to check on those sitting in stools or leaning between seated patrons, waving hands or coins in the air to try to catch her attention. She worked as quickly as she could, focused on one task at a time, grateful there wasn't time for much smalltalk throughout the initial early hour rush. It steadied after ten, most customers having secured at least two drinks and only popping back to the bar for the occasional refill. She'd only just managed to catch her breath when one of the blokes letting one of the upstairs rooms ambled down in a striped pyjama set complete with a sleep cap, shuffling up to the bar in his slippers and sliding onto a vacant stool. Fiona couldn't help but bite back the smile threatening to escape--which hadn't happened often, particularly lately. "Sir," she said cautiously. "Are you sleepwalking?"
The man held up two fingers. "I'll have a scotch and a peanut butter and ham waffle, miss."
She squinted at him as she considered his request. "Well that's defintiely one the kitchen hasn't heard before." Chuckling under her breath, she turned to fetch the bottle of scotch whisky. When she turned back around, the man slumped against the bartop out cold, snoring into his arm.