Who: Bethanie Dunstan and open. (Some NPCs, briefly). What: Bethanie needs rescuing, maybe. (Or it can work as a narrative.) When: Tuesday 24 April, after work. Where: Hogsmeade. Rating: U.
"No," Fiona insisted. "A cob isn't a roll, it's a loaf."
Bethanie had been standing by the door for nearly twenty minutes, listening to the trivial but entertaining debate over what different types of bread were called. Having barely lived in any one place long enough to have an opinion she didn't have much to contribute, but she still found the regional differences - and the passion with which they were discussed - fascinating. No one was talking the conversation really seriously, but it was after 5 and they were all off the clock and Bethanie had no where in particular to be.
"It's a barm cake!" Natalie shot back.
"Would you all take your conversation outside?" Clive - finally back from his three-and-a-bit month leave of absence. "Some of us are trying to work." His words were mild enough, but his tone was enough to kill the discussion instantly. In the resulting silence, Bethanie could feel her face flush hot with total shame. It was irrational - she'd only been listening, barely making any noise at all - but she suddenly needed to leave. She adjusted her handbag over her shoulder and pushed the door open, foregoing the obligatory 'have good evenings!' for her colleagues.
On her walk down the stairs of the WWN building, the shame gave way to anger. Where did Clive get off asking them to be quiet? He talked about football for hours - in the middle of the work day! Not only that, but Bethanie had spent all day hunting through scripts and removing references to an axed plot that was considered a little too close to the Werewolf Registry leak, for which she hadn't even been thanked.
The anger didn't last long - Bethanie had many years experience burying anger until even she wasn't aware of it. What followed, to her dismay, were tears blurring her vision seemingly out of nowhere. She was lucky that there was no one else on the stairs, and she made it to the doors before trying to discreetly wipe her eyes. It was stupid to be crying. Clive hadn't even said anything that bad. He hadn't even been talking to her, really.
When she glanced around, she wasn't as alone on Hogsmeade High Street as she might have hoped.