Post by Fierro Darque on Nov 30, 2011 10:13:37 GMT -8
9 October 2011
About 1130pm
It had been months since he left the ministry. Fierro was tired of chewing on his fingernails, sitting on his thumb, running around in circles, etcetera. He needed to get out of the manor. Now that it had succesfully been fully cleaned, magically spruced up and protected, he was simply bored out of his mind. Liam needed some help at the Abby; seeing that he and Kara were busy doing the "honeymooner" scene as well as maintaining a good enough front and disguise to keep them out of sight from the ministry, Fierro was more than eager to lend a helping hand. Hesitantly, Liam agreed, and as fast as a lumous brightened the room, he was out the door, apron on, and broom in hand.
The Abby was a quaint little pub, filled with regular drunkards, your neighborhood lush or two, a few passing through, tourists, and the lot. Muggles, most of them, with the occasional handful from the magical realm, wanting to hide from the taxing life they lived on the "other side". It wasn't always like that, Fierro sighed, longing for that perfect place where he once lived. It was no paradise, he knew, but compared to what sort of hell that Williams had created, Fierro saw the vast difference.
He wasn't worried, however. At this point, Trevor never came to any dusty old pub like this one, and he hadn't seen Teague MacTail since the night the two had gotten drunk together. Fierro may have said a little too much, but none the matter. He knew Teague was so far up Williams' ass that you couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. He was vying for Fierro's job from the start. The path that Fierro took was somewhat unexpected, but he didn't care. He just wanted out. He even donned a new face, a spell he had perfected over the years, one that held up slightly better than polyjuice. Although the transformation was a bit more painful that the other, Fierro put his own life on the fact that it was "slightly better" than the bitter taste of that undesired potion.
So here he was, sweeping the dusty floor of the Abby, pub belonging to his new son-in-law and daughter, making a living like muggles would, except he used his magic from time to time, no use making his hard-earned skills go to waste. The night was somewhat young, people starting to trickle in like the evening rains, pitter pattering about. Nothing in all of either worlds could prepared him for who was going to walk through those doors.
Nothing.
Lightning flashed and soon after, the thunder shook the building, sound reverberating through the tavern.
The bell rang. The door had opened and the sound of a medium bootfall triggered the automatic greeting, "Welcome to the Abby, what is it I can get ye tonight?"
Fierro wasn't looking up, however, he kept on sweeping away.
About 1130pm
It had been months since he left the ministry. Fierro was tired of chewing on his fingernails, sitting on his thumb, running around in circles, etcetera. He needed to get out of the manor. Now that it had succesfully been fully cleaned, magically spruced up and protected, he was simply bored out of his mind. Liam needed some help at the Abby; seeing that he and Kara were busy doing the "honeymooner" scene as well as maintaining a good enough front and disguise to keep them out of sight from the ministry, Fierro was more than eager to lend a helping hand. Hesitantly, Liam agreed, and as fast as a lumous brightened the room, he was out the door, apron on, and broom in hand.
The Abby was a quaint little pub, filled with regular drunkards, your neighborhood lush or two, a few passing through, tourists, and the lot. Muggles, most of them, with the occasional handful from the magical realm, wanting to hide from the taxing life they lived on the "other side". It wasn't always like that, Fierro sighed, longing for that perfect place where he once lived. It was no paradise, he knew, but compared to what sort of hell that Williams had created, Fierro saw the vast difference.
He wasn't worried, however. At this point, Trevor never came to any dusty old pub like this one, and he hadn't seen Teague MacTail since the night the two had gotten drunk together. Fierro may have said a little too much, but none the matter. He knew Teague was so far up Williams' ass that you couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. He was vying for Fierro's job from the start. The path that Fierro took was somewhat unexpected, but he didn't care. He just wanted out. He even donned a new face, a spell he had perfected over the years, one that held up slightly better than polyjuice. Although the transformation was a bit more painful that the other, Fierro put his own life on the fact that it was "slightly better" than the bitter taste of that undesired potion.
So here he was, sweeping the dusty floor of the Abby, pub belonging to his new son-in-law and daughter, making a living like muggles would, except he used his magic from time to time, no use making his hard-earned skills go to waste. The night was somewhat young, people starting to trickle in like the evening rains, pitter pattering about. Nothing in all of either worlds could prepared him for who was going to walk through those doors.
Nothing.
Lightning flashed and soon after, the thunder shook the building, sound reverberating through the tavern.
The bell rang. The door had opened and the sound of a medium bootfall triggered the automatic greeting, "Welcome to the Abby, what is it I can get ye tonight?"
Fierro wasn't looking up, however, he kept on sweeping away.