Everrett Mac (ex_maths16) wrote in regulation, @ 2008-04-03 16:21:00 |
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Current music: | junior senior - happy rap |
Entry tags: | everrett mac |
making up the words as we go along
Who: MC Ev and G-Unit... *coughs* That's Everrett and Ginny.
Where: Diagon Alley
When: 3rd April 2008, afternoon
What: A random meeting - talk of rapping, pimping and a guest appearance by a green liquorice lace.
Rating: PG
Status: Closed; complete.
Diagon didn't feel much different. It surprised her, slightly- she'd expected it to actually be different when she finally went back. Yet the stone on the buildings hadn't changed, save for the fact that in some places it looked older, in others new where they'd replaced the old, crumbling walls. A few new shops she didn't recognise dotted the street, their front windows stocked with bright signs and odd objects, each and every one of them professing to having the best bargains on the street.
The only thing that had changed, Ginny supposed, was her. Diagon and the feeling of simple magic that hung over it, slithered across her skin, was an unusual feeling. Everyone around her seemed to be laughing or chatting happily- save for a few frazzled looking costumers- and she could practically sense the magic coming in waves off them. It was odd, after spending years with only herself or Charlie, or a few wizards or witches she would occasionally run into. Odd and yet not awful and Ginny's grin grew wider as she stood there, effectively blocking the entrance to the Alley for just a moment before a burly guy with a Hitler moustache pushed her out of the way.
Scowling, she gave him the finger, muttering darkly under her breath for barely a second before her eye was caught by the Quidditch shop up the road, its sign shining brightly in the daylight as sunlight hit off the gold lettering. Her steps were rapid as she walked towards it and placed her fingers against the window, fingernail tracing the outline of the newest model separated from her only by a piece of glass.
Her voice was low as she whispered to herself, "I haven't flown in years."
Everrett had no idea how he'd ended up in the Wizarding district of London that afternoon - usually he spent his free time hanging around Camden, making small talk with the guys from Forbidden Planet and poking his nose in the new comics. But now that the weather was actually beginning to look up he found himself drawn to a place that was still so unfamiliar to him, despite having lived its magic and knowledge for over a decade. He was easy to pick out in the crowd; he'd never grown used to Wizarding garb and so he'd never bothered wearing it. He supposed he'd look like a right twat if he even tried. So there he was, clad in jeans and a green t-shirt with a picture of a dash sign on it, his hair half-coming loose from his ponytail. One thing he didn't mind at all was all the sweet shops they had here, and he was currently sucking on the end of one of those giant liquorice laces, the ones that changed flavour with every bite.
Passing the Quidditch shop - somewhere he wouldn't bother giving a first glance to, let alone a second - he turned round to pick up a penny from the curb when a man built like a brick shithouse knocked into his side, pushing him up against the shop window for a moment before grumbling in his face and dashing off. Blinking, he let the liquorice hang loose from his mouth for a moment as he adjusted his glasses and turned, just catching those words uttered by the redheaded girl beside him.
"Me neither," he said, before he could stop himself. He really needed to work on not talking to strangers.
Blinking in surprise, Ginny turned her head and stared at the boy who had spoken. He was short and thin, large glasses perched on the end of his nose. She was half surprised that glasses that size fit on anyone's face.
"You don't really look like a Quidditch player," she said, tone amiable and light.
The green liquorice between Everrett's lips wiggled a bit and he pulled it out, his teeth closing around the end and snapping a bit off. He chewed thoughtfully and shrugged, offering the girl a hesitant, slant glance. "I'm not. The last time I flew it was during first year lessons. Never again."
He remembered the incident very well - every time they had their fortnightly lessons, he always seemed to come down with a cold or a sore stomach. "Do you play Quidditch, then?" he asked, turning against the glass and looking at the broom she was making moon-eyes at.
"No." The word was said sharply, irritation tinging her voice and Ginny only realised it a moment afterwards. Her mouth twitched slightly and she turned from the window, dragging her eyes away from the slight curve of the wood, the way it gleamed. It was horrible how everything here seemed to taunt her.
"I don't anymore. Raised on it, though." Her arms folding across her chest, she eyed the boy and then said, "I'm Ginny- and I didn't mean to snap."
Everrett was well prepared to back off then, and he nearly dropped his liquorice in his hast to push himself away from the window. He paused when she apologised, though, and glanced back toward the curb. The penny was gone.
"Everrett," he said slowly, looking down at his sticky palm and deciding that it was best not to offer it for a handshake. That time in the library was different - his hands were clean. And he wanted to know if the other boy felt as cold as he did. He had no doubt this Ginny girl was feeling the unusual warmth just like everyone else in the street was.
"So, do you come here often?" he asked, oblivious to the connotations of the question.
She eyed him for a moment and then laughed, in spite of herself, her hand sticking out and making a grab for his, the action spurred on somewhat by the fact that he had actually looked down at his hand and then decided not to offer one. Her smile was easy as she said, "Everrett? People had better give you nicknames. Is it odd being called Ev? The only person I met who was an Ev was an Evelyn." Ginny paused, stopping the stream of chatter pouring from her mouth but only barely.
Head turning, eyes sweeping over the alley, her nose scrunched and she shook her head. "No. No, I've been up in Muggle Liverpool. Gettin' down with the hated race or whatever. Are they technically a race, do you think?"
Everrett blinked. "Scousers? I- I don't know, I've never met one, really..." he said, wondering if it was some sort of trick question. His whole body had practically shook with the enthusiastic force of her handshake and he winced as the sticky sweet got caught between their palms. Fiddling with his glasses, he stuck a finger under the lens and wiped some mist away. "And I get called Ev." Amongst other things. "Or Mac. Not as in Apple Mac or Big Mac or anything with Mac in it. Just Mac. It's my surname." He thought for a moment if he was giving away too much information. Maybe she was one of those people that liked to hang around busy shopping streets with clipboards, wheedling every single piece of information out of you until somehow they got your credit card number and suddenly you were sponsoring some kid in Ethiopia.
Everrett glanced down at her hands and let out a little relieved sigh. She was holding no clipboard.
"I didn't mean Scousers. The Scousers aren't a different race." Pausing, Ginny considered it for a moment and then said, "Actually, you know what? Maybe they are. Sometimes I think they're alien when they're babbling on about all these gun things and smack and whatever else they have but it doesn't sound so odd anymore, you know?"
He looked vaguely out of sorts, even worried and she could not quite figure out why. Surely, she wasn't that terrifying? Although, Ginny supposed, that having some random woman start chatting away happily to you on the middle of the street wasn't exactly a normal, everyday experience. Yet, the boy- man, she supposed- looked so awkward that she couldn't help but want to talk to him, a bit. The awkward ones were always more fun.
"What about MC Ev?" she asked, after a moment. "Can I call you that? I think you'd make a great rapper- you look like Eminem. A bit. Maybe. From the side. Well, okay, not really but it's still a really cool name."
Everrett hesitated again before he laughed once, shortly, his nose wrinkling and pushing his glasses up to his eyebrows. "No one's ever called me that before." He twisted the rest of his candy between his fingers, considering throwing it away. "Or said that I look like... him. Who I hate, by the way." He smiled crookedly, looking around for the nearest rubbish bin and flinging the liquorice into it, rubbing his now empty hands together before slinging a thumb around the strap of his messenger bag.
"Do you have any nicknames?" he asked, trying to be polite and shifting from foot to foot.’
"Ginny is a nickname," she answered. "Ginevra Weasley, pleased to make your acquaintance. I think I was supposed to say that bit when I shook your hand but it's alright. You can call me Gin, I suppose, or anything really." Her hands on her hips, she stepped backwards, treading accidentally on the foot of someone who looked like he'd never quite managed to figure out what a comb was.
"Sorry," she apologised, stepping quickly out of the way. "I was distracted by the light from Ev's glasses." The man grunted, scowled and turned away. Ginny watched his back with wide eyes, shaking her head. "People are so odd."
"They seem to be doing that a lot today," Everrett observed, watching the man's retreating back. His attention snapped back toward the woman and he added, "How about G-Unit?"
"G-Unit," Ginny repeated, testing the name out on her tongue. Her eyes danced slightly, a smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards and she barely managed to force back the laugh that threatened to bubble over. "G-Unit and MC Ev, represent, brother from another mother." Her arm looped suddenly around his, tugging him slightly as she started to walk down the street. He was shorter than her and it unnerved her slightly. Though, she supposed, wearing large boots didn't exactly shrink her any.
"I must take you to meet my sister from another mister, then," she said determinedly. "She's just 'round the corner here." And she stepped forward, eyes searching the sea of strange faces before veering towards the closet one who did not look like she would bite their heads off for approaching.
"You're not going to take me round a dark corner and rob me, are you?" Everrett asked in a small voice, traipsing along beside her without putting up much of a fight. His hair finally swung free from his ponytail and the hair bobble landed somewhere in the gutter behind his back. Squinting, he attempted to brush the bright-blond away from his eyes and glasses, glancing around at the strange faces with wide eyes.
"Where are we going...?"
"Nah, when I take people 'round dark corners it's never for any misdeeds sadly." She heaved a sigh at that, though it sounded so fake it almost made her wince. "It's always for something perfectly legal like a spot of prostitution or something."
A beat and then she hastily added, "Not that I'm going to whore you out. I'm not a proper G-Unit pimp. I still need to get my crushed velvet suit for that."
Ignoring his question, Ginny tugged lightly on his arm once more, stopping in front of a woman wearing what looked like a balaclava knotted around her neck. Ginny peered closely at it for a second, trying to figure out what on earth it actually was. Had the wizarding world gone insane in her absence and decided this was the height of fashion? Or was the wizarding world, the slightly intoxicating feeling of knowing magic was all around her making her insane? She wasn't quite sure which but one was most certainly the case.
"Hey," she greeted. "I'm Gee- this is Ev. We're looking into starting up our own wee MC group. You doing anything on Saturday? Ev here- we call him MC Ev- can lay down some wicked beats."
"Ginny," Everrett hissed, panic shrouding his features as the woman stared at them with an expression of half-horror, half-surprise on her face. The woman's name escaped his lips rather easily and he frowned thoughtfully. Making friends this week seemed to be something of a trend. "I-..." He turned back to the Witch. "She's kidding. In fact, she's quite mad, really." His face was heating uncomfortably and his vision was starting to go a bit grey as his glasses steamed up. Pushing a finger underneath the lenses again, he wiped them clean impatiently.
Struggling a bit and trying not to be so forceful, he steered them away from the strange woman and walked them back into the main square. "I'm not sure I would make a good pr-pro-prostit... you know, one of those."
"No," she said thoughtfully. "No, I rather think not. Most prostitutes don't stutter over the word or go bright red when talking to someone. Not that that's a bad thing, mind." Her arms dropped to her sides and she swung them by her sides as she walked, bouncing slightly as her head swivelled around. Everything still seemed new to her, colours brighter- maybe it was the magic but maybe it was simply because she was out of Liverpool, where most things seemed dull. Years after most of them had shut down and the grimy dirt of factories and old cities clung to everything still- or gave way to large buildings which seemed to be made entirely of glass windows. She wasn't sure which part of them she disliked more.
"If you're not a prostitute, what do you do then?"
"I work in a science lab for the Ministry," Everrett explained slowly, and it was obvious he still wasn't quite used to talking about his job. It wasn't as if he was a secret agent for the MI5 - he had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. It was in the precise nature of his work that he didn't like to get too nitty-gritty with details.
"Regulation department," he added quickly, wondering if she even knew what that was.
"My brother works there," Ginny said. "I'm not sure what he does but he's talked about it a bit. Do you experiment on rats or people?" she asked somewhat bluntly, her arms folding across her chest and fingers drumming against her forearm. "I reckon the science lab bit explains the glasses and the expression- no offence but you look like you'd be delighted if an alien landed and took you away to outer space."
Everrett flushed scarlet and fiddled with his glasses again, catching a handful of blond hair as it blew with the breeze that had suddenly picked up. He was annoyed that it'd fallen out of its ponytail - there was nothing more irritating than having it in his face all day.
"Neither," he said, his frown still worrying over his eyebrows. It was a half-lie - he experimented on white mice and magical creatures. There were no inbetweens. "I should go," he added hastily, grabbing the handle of his bag, his arm crossed over his chest almost defensively.
"I didn't mean anything by it," she said, suddenly concerned that she'd said something inappropriate before shaking it off. "If you're offended, just cuss me out or something. I'll pout like a bitch but it'll be grand, swear."
Hands sinking into her pockets, she turned, the bright red skirt she had on flaring out slightly before settling around her knees. "It was really nice meeting you, Everrett- have a good day, aye?"
"Um - you too?" Everrett briefly considered asking her what cuss meant, but he changed his mind, turning on his own heel and slowly making his way up the street in the opposite direction. It was probably time to get out of the Wizarding district for now.