WHO: Millicent and Blaise WHERE: The crappy little pub WHEN: backdated to Sunday Evening WHAT: Running into each other RATING: Language no doubt
A clothing store. It was fucking hilarious. Millicent 'I only wear trousers' Bulstrode was supposed to aid people in their selecting of clothing. She hated purchasing clothes shopping and in fact had done most of her own shopping via owl. Like it mattered what she wore. Could dress a pig up but it was still a pig. At least that was her theory on the matter. And really she had far better things to do with her time than waste it on finding the perfect b line skirt or whatever they were called.
Then she'd have to shave her legs. Fuck that.
She had spent the majority of the day carving her name into the wall behind the register with a knife ignoring any customers... wait had there been any customers? Not like she cared. She had one and only one plan now. To get a drink. The pub had been one of the first places she had found on the stupid island. It was the only place she really needed to find.
Millicent threw open the rickety door and was set to make a beeline to the bar when something stopped her. It was- a familiar head. Or back of a head really. No... no it wasn't. Okay maybe-
"Holy Shit." Yep that was said out loud and a bit louder than she'd intended.