Hello world I'm your wild girl

[Rosalind Beckett]

Slipping past a group of tourists in Trafalgar Square, Rosalind acquired a pair of sunglasses ‘accidentally’ from one of their bags and casually slipped them on, barely slowing her pace through the square as she eyed her next target with her usual cool determination. She quite fancied that light silk scarf threaded through a fashionable-looking woman’s Mulberry handbag; this one required a tad more nerve and bluster. Purposefully stumbling in a crack on the pavement she stumbled, catching the arm of the target as though in reflex, and widening her eyes in a ‘doe caught in the headlights manner’. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, clumsy me,” she breathed out quietly, as though mortified, whilst she quickly withdrew her right hand from the other woman’s arm and her left hand, now clutching the scarf, quickly moved to behind her back. “Sorry, sorry!” she exclaimed in apology, allowing for the woman’s raised eyebrow and ‘It’s quite alright’ before she hurried off in a rush. Only when round the corner did she smirk triumphantly to herself and casually drape the scarf around her neck. Pausing by a shop window she looked at her reflection critically and then sighed, “Why can I never pull off these scarves?” she lamented, unravelling her recently acquired one and coolly dropping it into the part-open shopping bag of a passer-by. That'd be a nice little surprise for them later.

A desire for a drink led her to do a quick scan around her immediate area before she disappeared mid-step amongst a crowded London street and reappeared on the main street leading through Hogsmeade amongst a group of giggling teenage girls. Ignoring their shouts of protest, Rosalind pushed through them and strode confidently over to the Three Broomsticks. She ignored the other patrons of the bar, even those stood crowded around the bar and clearly awaiting service, and perched on a barstool, regarding the part-time barman before murmuring, “I’ll have two large Firewhiskies, please.”

“Someone joining you or are you just really thirsty?” he asked as he turned to the whiskey bottle with two glasses.

Letting out a soft scoffing noise, she reached up to remove the sunglasses and then smiled sweetly at him, “No, one of them is for you, obviously,” she explained levelly, meeting his gaze confidently and, yes, a tad flirtily. Whatever you needed to do to get served right away, gain a barman’s confidence and have the possibility of using it to get free drinks later. “Thanking you kindly sir,” she replied in a jokingly heightened manner, inclining her head politely, as she picked up her glass and raised it to her lips with a smirk.

((ooc: Yay first post! Yeah most of it is irrelevant for any characters joining, unless they're stalking her and miraculously apparated to the same place on a whim. Anyone, please? PS- the title? Been playing 'Cherry Bomb' on Guitar Hero and figured it's probably Rosa's haha-fuck-you karaoke song. :P ))

[Thomas Campbell]

Stumbling slightly as he walked into the bar, Thomas rubbed his unshaven face roughly with his hand before making his way over to the bar, sinking down onto the closest seat and sighing loudly, looking for someone to serve him but he could see the barman was otherwise occupied, talking to a brunette who Thomas couldnt really see.

"Excuse me, can I buy a drink please? If you're finished with the young lady, that is" Thomas added snarkily, he was never usually so outspoken but his birthday had been a completely terrible day, with everything that could go wrong, going wrong and ending with him having an out and out argument with his ex wife over the birthday dinner that his mother had cooked him and Tom storming out.

Getting up and walking over to where the barman hadnt moved from, Tom stood in front of him and slapped his hand on the bar, "A drink. GET ME ONE, NOW!" he spoke loudly, his eyes wide and an angry look on his face, but inside he felt somewhat elated as the barman apologised and rushed off to get him one, "I apologise for being rude, Im usually very plac...oh it's you" Tom looked to the lady sitting next to where he stood and he was disappointed to see it was Olivers 'friend', Rosalind.

(ooc. Hope Tom is ok?)

[Rosalind Beckett]

((ooc: Yep he's fab!))

Laughing at something the barman, Greg she'd discovered his name was, said she touched his arm lightly and nodded, not at all ashamed of flirting with him. He was cute and she was bored, what harm could it do? Apparently stop other people being served she soon realised as a snarky voice asked to buy a drink. Rolling her eyes softly she said simply, not even looking round to acknowledge the speaker, "He's really not finished with me yet, or am I not finished with him, hmm?" Rosalind suggested as she looked up at Greg with a grin. However they were soon interrupted as the same speaker approached them both and slapped his hand on the bar, causing Rosalind to jump slightly.

Her gaze trailing sideways to meet the man who had interrupted her very nice conversation with a very nice young man, to say she was surprised to see Thomas Campbell would be an understatement and a half. "Mmmm a weirdly attractive pissed-off aura, finally a Tom I can get onboard with," Rosalind murmured as she looked at him with a highly amused smirk quirking at her lips. "Apologise for being rude? I think you ought to apologise for calling me 'you' in that tone, Tommy boy, and don't look so bloody disappointed to see me! Are you disappointed I didn't drop off the face of the earth?" the brunette asked, raising an eyebrow scathingly as she downed the rest of the whiskey. "So... what the hell is up with you... not shaving, demanding drinks... are you going through a mid-life crisis? Aww I'm sorry I missed it if so," Rosalind claimed in a sweet, but patronising, tone of voice.

[Thomas Campbell]

Tom gave a snort and shook his head, really wanting to get up and walk away from Rosalind but having stormed away from his ex wife already, he was far too polite to storm away from a second woman and was already feeling guilty for walking out on his birthday meal.

"I will apologise to the bar keep and yourself for interrupting your conversation but I will not apologise for speaking to you how I did. It was Abraham Lincoln who once said 'If once you forfeit the confidence of your fellow-citizens, you can never regain their respect and esteem'" Tom looked at Rosalind with a pointed look before sitting himself down, thanking the bar man quietly for his drink.

"I'd never wish for your demise, Rosalind, simply for you to compose yourself as a decent human being, for once in your life" Tom frowned as he tasted the drink, it was rather strong and he wasnt sure if drinking alcohol was the best idea in his current mood but he thought back to the silly argument that had just happened and his ex wife's scathing comments and his anger bubbled up once more, making him determined to drink this foul drink AND many more. That'll teach her, he thought to himself before looking at Rosalind with a bored expression.

"Im 36, hardly midlife crisis age. I plan on living longer than 72 though I can't say for definite just how long I will live. But after the day I've had today, maybe 72 would be too long?" he mused before turning to face her, "Terrible parchment sales, the fact I found another grey hair, the pie man stole the girl, my daughter doesnt really like me, my family dont respect me, my exwife is a money grabbing soul destroyer and Im sitting next to you. THAT is why Im not shaving and demanding drinks. Do you have a problem with that?" Tom asked her, looking at her as if to say 'well? Do you?' before shrugging and taking another long drink.

(ooc. Tom doesnt mean to be so rude...he's just having a really bad day. Plus he dislikes her, lol)

[Rosalind Beckett]

"My, my, look who grew some balls," Rosalind remarked with a dangerously raised eyebrow as she looked at him scathingly. "I just came in here for a drink, didn't realise I'd set myself up to be lectured or have beer-mat quotes recited at me," the brunette rolled her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder in a huffy manner before wordlessly sliding the whiskey glass back over the bar for Greg to fill it up. She'd need it if she had to endure Tom trying to be all prickly with her.

Snorting loudly as he claimed he would never wish her dead she shook her head, "I don't believe you, Thomas. You sound like my father, seriously, you and Daddy would get along because you both have deluded ideas as to what a 'decent human being' is anyway." Leaning closer she eyed him intensely, her words nothing but deadly serious then for she truly believed it, "The people who I exploit because I'm such a terrible excuse for a human being apparently? Yes, they are not nice people, they deserve to be exploited and made to pay for their own greed and if you took your head out of your own moral arse for a second you might just see that too." Sighing heavily then because she knew he would never ever get why she did what she did, or even wanted to see a different perspective on the whole con game, she rang a finger idly around the rim of her glass as he spoke.

"If you plan on living longer than 72 then I'd suggest easing up with the Lincoln quotes around me," she said dryly, her eyes narrowing in confusion and irritation as he turned to face her and explained about his day. "Alright so... first... your parchment sales are seemingly always dismal, why don't you just give it up? Secondly, aww how many grey hairs is it now? You should name them. Thirdly, who the fuck is the pie man and who is your girl? I didn't realise anyone was your special someone, Tommy," Rosalind patted his arm in a sweet but condescending manner. "Fourthly, your daughter probably 'doesn't really like you' because you try too hard to be 'down with the kids' or whatever. Fifthly, may I meet your ex-wife? She sounds lovely, I think we'd get along, or so you'd probably think! And sixthly, and finally, the feeling of needing a drink because of who you are sat next to is entirely mutual I assure you," she finished counting off the things he'd mentioned before shrugging casually and picking up her glass. "I don't have a problem with any of those things, they all sound fairly probable when it comes to you. Christ, your life really is crap isn't it?" she asked coolly, taking a sip of the Firewhiskey. For anyone else such a comment might suggest sympathy but Rosalind really didn't feel sorry for Tom at all; what she felt was more akin to amusement actually.

((ooc: I apologise she's a bit shit, not feeling her today but I wanted to reply so here she is! And it's completely fine about him being rude, haha, I could understand his rudeness given said dislike. Plus I don't imagine she's the easiest person to get along with as it is.))

[Thomas Campbell]

Tom sniffed as he shook his head at Rosalind trying to explain that she wasnt a bad person & that people like her and Oliver were just misunderstood or whatever, he'd heard his own brother's reasoning so many times that he just turned off whenever he started to justify his lifestyle and he'd offer Rosalind the exact same treatment, "Yes, they deserve to be robbed. They have something, you want it...just take it, am I right? If that's how your father raised you then no, I wouldnt get along with him. Nice sunglasses, pay for them?" Tom smiled sarcastically, "Im sure the woman you stole them from was an evil eyewear overlord who deserved to have them taken from her" Tom nodded his head, pushing his empty glass towards the bar man for a refill before nodding towards Rosalind, "One for her as well, please", despite his feelings for Rosalind, he'd been taught that men should buy drinks for women.

"What else would I do for a living? hat would happen to my family business that has been around for generations? I dont expect you to understand, you're as bad as Oliver" Tom huffed, glaring at Rosalind before shaking his head again, "I would never introduce you to my ex wife, even someone like you hasnt done anything terrible enough to deserve that" Tom managed a smile, the alcohol was working, loosening him up and making him relax slightly.

[Rosalind Beckett]

"Yep, that's how it works!" Rosalind enthused in an impossibly chipper, and thus entirely fake, manner before the look fell of her face suddenly and instead her usual look of disdain replaced it. "Nah Daddy is like you, doesn't think much of my life choices, preaches the values of morality. He tells friends I'm 'on my own path', I think he'd be less ashamed of me if it emerged I was a Deatheater, at least then I'd be doing purebloods proud." Reaching for the sunglasses she toyed with them as he spoke, "Nah but she was a tourist, everyone knows tourists are irritating as hell. She won't miss them, she wasn't wearing them in the blinding sunlight so I'm guessing they're not her most prized possession," she explained coolly with a 'so there' look at Thomas. Truth was, the glasses were cute and she sometimes had the urge to just pickpocket people because she could do so rather well, if she did say so herself. His sarcasm might have made her feel bad, if she had some semblance of morality left that is. "Sarcastic isn't a good look for you either, by the way," she added as though advising him seriously.

Taken aback as he ordered another for her, "You're-you're buying me a drink...why?" she asked, a hint of confusion and slight awe in her voice, before she caught herself doing so and reverted back to joking and snarky as he defence mechanism. "Isn't it some kind of sin for you to do such things for a person 'like me', you'll be seen as an accomplice to a devil woman!" she proclaimed dramatically.

Throwing her hands up in the air, "Pfft, I don't know, go find your calling. Ever thought of being a priest? You'd do well at the whole 'making people feel guilty for doing shit' aspect of it," she suggested easily as she lifted the glass to take another sip of it. "Ooo ouch! Being 'as bad as Oliver'? Why must you hurt me in this way with your cruel words?" Shaking her head, "Do yourself a favour and don't compare me to your brother. How is he by the way, still running from the law?" the brunette asked. "Sooo she's really that bad, huh? I just conned a bloke who really doesn't fuck around out of £30,000...and it doesn't even earn me an introduction to your ex-wife? Shocking, I knew I should have asked for £40,000 instead," Rosalind laughed darkly.

[Thomas Campbell]

Shaking his head at Rosalind with a pitying look as she explained why it was ok that she stole the sunglasses, Tom rolled his eyes and gave a small derisive laugh, "I wasnt being sarcastic, I truly believed that the poor defenceless holidaymaker you decided to rob was an evil overlord for about a second, then I remembered you're about as trustworthy as a Tory" he flashed a quick smile at her before shrugging his shoulders as she asked why he was buying her a drink.

"If you dont want the drink, dont drink it. I was merely being polite, though I understand you of all people wouldnt be familiar with such a notion. I know it may surprise you, but I could do with the company...even if it is you" he held his glass up and chinked it against hers as if he was toasting something, downing half of his in one, he really was having a bad day and just wanted to relax and forget it about it for the time being and as he saw it, alcohol was the only solution.

Nodding his head, he smiled "Of course he's on the run, when isnt he? He's currently living in my house, which I really dont approve of but Julia insisted, I suppose she enjoys having someone 'fun' around, whatwith me being so responsible and boring?" Tom exhaled in a defeated fashion, "I have to be responsible and boring, I have mouths to feed and a child to look after but she doesnt seem to appreciate this, and the She Devil that is my ex wife has just dumped even more responsibilty on me so she can pursue her dream of being a film star or IT Girl or some other ridiculous notion" he finished his drink in another mouthful before motioning to the barman that he should bring another 2 drinks to them, "I used to be fun, I did...hard to believe I know." he motioned to himself with a sad look, wondering if he'd ever get out of this rut he'd gotten himself into.

(ooc. Sorry, he's not that great!)

[Rosalind Beckett]

((ooc: Nonsense, he was fab! Poor Tom :( I apologise for Rosalind!))

Rosalind met his gaze and fixed him with a highly unimpressed look as he claimed she was 'as trustworthy as a Tory', "Ouuuch, a comparison to a Conservative... shit, now I really am offended," she muttered, her eyes narrowing into a glare at this. "If we're going to get all political with our similes though, I for one reckon 'as trustworthy as Nick Clegg' is more apt but... whatevs," she trailed off with a vague, lazy wavy of her hand at him as though to brush the point away.

"I didn't say I don't want the drink, why would I refuse a drink?" she asked, her brow furrowing just the slightest; considering how despicable he clearly thought she was, he was still being polite and gentlemanly... Rosalind hadn't interacted with someone like that in a long time; it went with the territory of being involved in shady things, you interacted with shady, ill-mannered people. She looked away from him as she took the whiskey and murmured sincerely, "Thank you," while avoiding looking at him; someone being vaguely nice to her when they knew what she was really like made her extremely uncomfortable. "What? Oh... oh well thank you very much," Rosalind laughed dryly, as he claimed he was in want of company so much that she'd do, but clinked her glass against his all the same before taking a large sip from hers.

Inclining her head to him as though to acknowledge a hit she agreed, "Touché, it was clearly a ridiculous question on my part, Ollie's always up to his neck in some kind of crap." Then, turning to face him she frowned slightly as Tom revealed Oliver was in fact living with him, "You let him stay in your house? Have you checked that you still have all your family silver?" she joked, a lazy smirk quirking at her lips as she recalled some of her and Ollie's prior collaborations. She'd always thought he was clever enough to do more subtle schemes than just weed dealing or whatever he was up to nowadays but they each had their own area of expertise she supposed.

Then, the brunette looked wholly bewildered as Tom began to talk of having to be boring and responsible for the sake of his kid. It was something Rosalind had no clue about; she couldn't even fake knowing about being mature and caring for a kid as she still had trouble expressing positive emotions about other people, let alone being maternal or something equally hideous. Downing the rest of her drink she winced as it burned her throat slightly and then replied, "Yeah but you are 36, yes? So it can't have been that long ago since you were... I don't know... going out, getting smashed and enjoying a carefree life, right? How long ago was it that you were 'fun'?" she asked, holding her hands up to make air-quotes around the word 'fun', and looking unconvinced that he'd ever been anything other than responsible and sensible.

[Thomas Campbell]

"I have manners, I'd never liken someone to Nick Clegg. I couldnt be THAT mean" he shook his head, he hated politics but what he hated more was people going back on what they'd promised, if you didnt mean something, dont say it was Tom's philosophy.

Tom nodded his head slowly as she showed disbelief in Tom letting Oliver stay at his house, "I know, I dont know what I was thinking agreeing to it but yes, I still have all of my valuables, I moved them to a secret vault the day he asked if he could stay. Not that I dont trust him...but I dont trust him" he shook his head, he had taken to sleeping with his wallet and wand in bed with him ever since Olly had graced Tom with his presence.
Arching his eyebrow as Rosalind spoke of going out & getting smashed, Tom shook his head dolefully, "I've been drunk once, that was a few months back for a friends stag party. I got into an argument with a bird & I pulled out my own tooth for a dare." he shuddered slightly, even though he couldnt remember the actual deed he was sure that it had been painful.
"My daughter is 18. I was married at 17, divorced by 20. My ex, not surprisingly, expected me to get a career and provide for her and Julia and if I dared to complain, she wouldnt let me see Julia. I had Julia every weekend so Evelyn could go out, then when Julia went to school, well Christmas was our time then." Tom shrugged his shoulders, he'd never really had a carefree life and felt as if he'd missed out on a lot of things.

(ooc. Sorry i took ages & he isnt too great!)

[Rosalind Beckett]

Rosalind let out a genuinely amused laugh at his comment, "Touché, Mr Campbell, touché. Ah Clegg... I wonder how ol' Nick lives with himself sometimes... though, to be honest, that could probably apply to most politicians," she admitted with a casual shrug. Who would have thought that morning that she would be sitting drinking with Tom Campbell and discussing political leaders wankers (as far as she was concerned at least).

"You were thinking he's your brother and 'family is family' despite everything probably?" she pointed out with a slight shake of her head, "Your family buy into all that stuff, that familial loyalty and love, and you lot seem to forgive him for the shit he's got himself into... which is quite amazing actually because I don't think my family have ever been quite able to look me in the eye properly since I was about... 14?" the brunette commented conversationally enough but there was the tiniest hint of regret in her tone as she stared down at her whiskey glass and then, with a shudder at how confessional she could become if she continued to talk, Rosalind downed the rest of the drink.

Still wincing at the lingering burning sensation in her throat as she swallowed the alcohol in one go, her expression then became disbelieving as Tom said he'd only been drunk once. "Fuck, Tom... you've never just let yourself go? Not even when you were younger? Christ," she said in amazement, shaking her head slightly. "No offence but your ex-wife sounds like an uber bitch," Rosalind noted without a hint of tact, or understanding of the concept of causing 'no offence'. "Right, Tommyboy, here's the deal... you need, and yes I choose the word 'need' specifically, you need to get absolutely ratarsed, wake up in someone else's bed tomorrow morning and then realise you've shagged a bird you've met in a bar tonight, okay?" the brunette advised. "You need to just do it, seriously, let go for once. You know, I bet you'd be pretty bloody hot if you just lightened up and put being 'the responsible one' on hold for just one night. And on that very fine note... garçon-" she clicked her fingers jokingly at the barman and then her smile turned into her flirty Cheshire cat grin as he appeared, "- Line us up some good 'uns, lovely, this man needs to chill desperately," she asked for some shots before turning back to Tom with an expression that clearly said 'trust me'. She had no idea why she had suddenly decided she needed to take charge in helping him to just fucking relax for a night but Rosalind felt something akin to sympathy for him and it absolutely disgusted her when she realised it so it seemed more alcohol would be the best way to ensure it was forgotten come the morning.

((ooc: Nah, chica, he's lovely as ever... aww I just wanna give him a big ol' hug!))