Seamus Finnigan (approbation) wrote in vrrpg, @ 2016-11-07 19:20:00 |
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Late Summer 2004
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Pandora was rather floating still in a lot of ways. Not even the lukewarm (at best) welcome back to the UK had worn all the shiny off her medals. It was a small piece of happiness, still, and one she’d earned all on her own. She had achieved a dream she had barely known she had, and now had a bigger one -- to go to the next Olympics and do even better. She’d been able to afford rent on her own tiny flat in Montrose, Scotland, with the sum that had come along with the medals (bronze and two silvers, one person and one team). It wasn’t big, but it was more than one room, and it was hers, not Filius’. Her Charms work had already seen a lot of work with the decorating the small space. It was almost… peace. She doubted real peace would ever find her, but this was such progress. Tangible and real. It didn’t even bother her that much that she’d have to give another brief interview today -- something to do with paperwork, who knew. Even the prospect of Munch seeing her new place didn’t gall as much as it could have. It was clean, it was nice, it was hers. It’d been some months since Seamus had seen Miss. Montgomery. In fact the last time they engaged in a meeting like this she was applying for a traveling and competitions visa for the Olympics. It hadn’t been discussed then, but Seamus was in the process of taking over her case number. Munch had merely walked the Gryffindor through the motions for paperworks sake. He took one last peek at her file for a refresher as he walked to her flat in Montrose and then knocked on the door. Properly closing the folder and tucking it under his arm as he waited for the door to open. Dora’s appearance was neat and tidy, but she hadn’t stripped herself of charms. She really hoped that it wasn’t going to be one of those interviews. She smoothed her hands down her robes after the knock came at the door. She opened it with a polite smile that became a bit more genuine as she recognized Seamus. She glanced behind him and didn’t see Munch anywhere, which didn’t necessarily mean anything but did kind of get her hopes up just a little. “Mister Finnigan! Or is it Auror Finnigan now?” she asked in a much friendlier voice than she would have had Munch been there. “Finnigan’s fine, Miss Montgomery,” Seamus smiled noting her more upbeat presence. “Please, come on in,” she invited, stepping out of the doorway and gesturing him inside. He nodded at her gesture and stepped into the quaint flat. Giving the room a scan he noted that the energy in the place certainly wasn’t as stressed as their previous meeting so he chose to keep things light. “So,” he offered with a smile, “I hear you’re an olympic champion now? How’s that going for you?” She closed the door behind him. It was small but neat. She wasn’t being wasteful with the money, most of it was going directly back into things she needed for dueling. It cost to compete at a high level. Her smile grew a bit more at his words. Not floating, precisely, but pleased. Not quite smug. Proud, perhaps. “It’s nice,” she admitted. “To see a pay off for all the work I’ve put into it.” To earn something for her country, too, that showed she wasn’t just what she’d been forced to do. She could do good things too, things that people could point to and be proud of. “Finally able to swing my own place without Filius’ investment.” Seamus offered her a smile, “Well, congratulations.” A nod followed, “You certainly should be very proud. It’s pretty fuckin’ cool.” In truth, Seamus was happy to have been a part of the decision to let her participate in the games. It made the menial task of babysitting seem all the more worthwhile in a strange way. The casualness of his visit, his language, loosened her up a bit more. Not completely, she didn’t know him well, he was still in charge of her case file (which really needed to die a fiery death one of these days). But she couldn’t help but warm to the Irishman a bit. “I am. Thank you.” He made his way to the table in the room and placed her folder down, “I just have some questions I have to ask you about your trip then I’ll be out of your hair.” His tone was more casual than authoritative. Truth was he didn’t see the point of interrogating someone he’d decided wasn’t necessarily guilty of her crimes. She pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. “Certainly. Can I get you anything before we get started? Tea?” Something stronger? She remembered they shared an affinity for whiskey, but she rather thought she should wait to suggest a toast until after he’d finished her ‘exit interview.’ Seamus smiled at her offer for something stronger, “Maybe some other time - apparently I have to be sober through this.” He opened her file and materialized a pen from thin air. The butt of the pen had an enchanted opal on top of it, known for changing colours whenever a lie was told. “Before we get started I have to ask if you have any objects on your person that may allow you to lie, bend, or omit the truth with ease?” “None of my charms are for lying. The only thing that lets me get away with it is my twisted little black heart and soul,” she said with deliberately heavy, dry humor. It wasn’t an uncommon sort of joke for her to make either. “So no, aside from that I do not, and that’s unremovable unless you dragged one of those cursed creatures around with you or want to sacrifice me upon the altar to some deranged god.” At least she rather thought he’d appreciate a faint joke whereas Munch would have been more than unhappy with her over it. But hell if a lass couldn’t joke about her own soul, then who could, anyway? The opal on the tip of Seamus’ pen swirled as Pandora answered his question it’s color changed to an emerald green. He ticked off the required box, with a bemused grin on his face over her dark joke. The dry humour seemed to be a consistent thing amongst his batch of charges. They all desperately wanted to be accepted on some level of society, but failed to truly want to let go of what dark, mysterious, background that made them different. The humour seemed to be the only way they could cope. Or so Seamus had decided and was willing to play along with. “While traveling abroad did you encounter anyone from your past? If so, who? And why?” he asked, reading the paperwork and offered her a glance. Dora tapped a finger on the table. “No one particular?” she said. “I mean, I met a fair amount of people, so of course I knew some of them in passing. And I’ve dueled against every member of the UK team before, as well as most of the opposing teams. But if you mean something from before then? No, none that I particularly recall at this time. But I signed a fair amount of autographs and went to several bars, so I’m not going to swear I didn’t run into someone and just don’t recall.” She had a spotty memory for some things at times, and she also tended to drink quite heavily when she was finished with her competitions. The opal remained green throughout Dora’s answer and Seamus ticked off another box. “Did you purchase any questionable items that could be intended to harm others?” “Unless you count copious amounts of liquor and some truly questionably awful food a few times, then no. The only person I tend to harm outside the ring is myself.” And wasn’t that the truth. Opal, sill green, Seamus asked, “While abroad did you engage in any unsanctioned duels or confrontations?” She shrugged. “We had a few encounters in the quarters,” she said, and sounded as if it were no big deal. It wasn’t, either. “I told Boris if he ever sliced my clothes off in the ring again, I’d shove his wand up his arse in our next duel, but honestly he quite deserved it. I still don’t like what he did in that duel in Romania last year, and he can quit his fucking gloating about seeing me starkers any day now. But that’s all usual shite, we all talk like that and there’s always a little extra spell work like that. Nothing that’s illegal though. We get it out in the ring or in practice warm ups.” No, she didn’t appreciate Boris’ moves last year, and she could hold a grudge, but she’d wiped the floor with him this year -- just like she had the time he’d sliced her clothes off in the ring. Seamus offered an impressed nod as he checked off and made a note on her file. Moving along he asked, “Where were you staying while out of country?” “I stayed in Olympic quarters, mostly. We did a bit of sightseeing and stayed in a few other places, after we were done, but mostly I let the team pay for the quarters so I don’t have to deal with that.” “What was the purpose of your trip?” She gave him a Look. “What do you think the purpose of my trip was?” she asked with dry sarcasm. “Take over the world? Psssh. Win me some medals and maybe gain a wee bit o’ respect in the process.” Seamus offered a grin at her response. He made a point to check off each box for each suitable answer. For the most part his lie detector pen gave no reason to believe she was lying or up to no good. “Last question,” he offered, “And don’t judge me for this - it’s on the paper.” He held it up for her to see, “Do you plan on killing or harming anyone in the foreseeable future outside of the dueling ring?” She offered him another look and and eye roll to convey her thoughts on that question. She'd been trying to be as honest as she could, to give him no reason to give her a bad review on this. But the questions were stupid, especially to give a duelist. “Well, I plan on getting terribly drunk at some point in the near future since these questions are driving me to drink, so I suppose that falls under self harm,” she replied dryly. “And I also plan on going back to practicing this week and so whoever my partner is, I plan on harming him or her but only within the rules of the ring. I don't plan on killing anyone.” Though if these questions continued she'd be highly tempted if she ever came across the writer of them, she thought with more dark humor. “Does that work for honesty?” she asked him, eyebrows raised slightly as she regarded him. Seamus scribbled a note on the paper that read, ’Charge has no intention of harming or killing anyone in a spiteful or dark manner.’ He signed the bottom of the document and then looked to Pandora. “Works for me,” his tone casual and a brief shrug present. Standing he tucked his pen and pad in his coat, “I’ll be back in three months, unless you give reason for me to come back sooner.” He extended his hand to her, “Thank you, Miss Montgomery.” “Sounds good to me. I’ll endeavor to give you no reason to return unless you actually wish to,” she said equally as pleasantly as she took his hand. She gave him a small and genuine smile. “Thank you, Auror Finnegan. Are you certain I can’t offer you a drink or anything now?” He took a moment to consider the offer, pursing his lips before shaking his head. “No… I’ve another charge I have to check in on in an hour. A drink wouldn’t be responsible.” He pointed at her and offered, “But next time we run into each other, perhaps?” She gave him a warm enough smile, hoping he could realize she was happy to be out from under Munch’s thumb. “I'll hold you to it, then. Best whiskey only,” she half joked, rising. “Though if you want some coffee or tea to go, I can do that too.” “I must be off,” Seamus nodded to her as he made his way to the door. “Stay out of trouble, hm?” he exited offering her a wink in departure. |