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Post by Peyton Sawyer on Aug 15, 2013 12:39:17 GMT -6
Peyton had a new job, one in a slew of many mind numbing, unfulfilling jobs. She really wanted an occupation, something meaningful, and one involving music, or sports. At the moment though that seemed out of the question as she needed something in the meantime that could pay her bills and her rent. Her yearlong paid internship over in America with a record company hadn’t panned out like she had hoped it would in the way of leading to more desirable jobs than bartending, but at least she had learned a lot. Now she was back in Hogsmeade living in some crappy whole in the wall which she tried her very best to stay out of as much as possible. She was fairly certain there was a mouse vying for living space in there amongst other things. Honestly Peyton had probably slept more in the back room of The Three Broomsticks than she had in her own apartment. The blonde cleaned another few glasses behind the bar before the other, more senior bartender hollered at her, “Oi, blondie, go see what table number seven wants, they look like they’re ready to order.” With a shrug, and a mumbled “sure,” she walked around the bar and over to table number seven. The person had their back turned to her so she couldn’t see who they were, and to be honest she didn’t much care at this point. She had experienced enough humiliation with people from school knowing she worked here, and that no, she was not some big deal record producer or talent scout over in America. It was inevitable that more would turn up and internally or more obviously ridicule her for her various lifelong failures. “What can I get you?” she asked trying to make her voice sound cheery as she fiddled with her notepad that for a moment was stuck in her apron pocket. She finally managed to fish the slightly crumbled notepad out of her apron’s front pocket and took a quill from behind her ear ready to take down whatever they needed. ((ooc: Anyone and everyone, please!!!! I miss you ladies!!!!! And for your listening pleasure blurred lines))
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Post by Kevin Walsh on Aug 16, 2013 20:37:49 GMT -6
(ooc: sooooo feel free to shove other characters in here too!)
Peyton could easily be forgiven for not recognizing Kevin once his back was turned: his hair was longer, he held himself a little taller, and he'd actually managed to put on weight since the last time they'd seen each other. But the most significant change of all? It was a Friday night out, and he was sitting quietly with a beer in hand, nodding politely and chuckling at a story his co-worker was telling. Like a normal human being. And not, say, starting a fight, mooning someone, yelling profanities or puking in the street.
Defying all expectations, Kevin had recently triumphed over his final set of exams for the Hitwizard program, catapulting him out of 'newbie kid' territory and into that of a 'qualified colleague', and a few of his friends and other people from the department had taken him out for drinks to celebrate. "Get the kid another lager, on me!" a gruff older Hitwizard shouted as Kevin spun around to face the waitress.
"Ha ha, cheers Dunn, can't argue with that... wait, holy shit. Cullen? What the hell? America's that way," he said while pointing in a randomly chosen direction (before changing his mind and flopping his arm the opposite way, as if it made a difference). They'd never been super-close outside of Quidditch games (and Kevin's unsuccessful attempts at hitting on her), so he wasn't entirely sure why she'd left for the States in the first place. Foot modeling? Women's volleyball team? Cross-country motorbike expedition? All the same, she looked somehow hotter than ever, which was all he cared about right now. "Just. Shit! It's good to see you. Why'd you come back? Awww, did you miss me too much?"
Dunn laughed loudly at this display and muttered, "Down boy, you'll get yerself plenty a' tail once yer on the job."
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Post by Peyton Sawyer on Aug 19, 2013 10:45:55 GMT -6
((ooc: oooo Lia I love your new sig and av for Kevin!! The Sig is AMAZING! ))The blonde was surprised to see the face that turned around in his seat. Kevin Walsh was laughing with colleague, nay he was being polite, he wasn’t tinged with green and in a desperate need to rush outside to puke in the street, or even shouting profanities that would surely start an all-out brawl where he would inevitably be thrown out on the street. Somehow he had always managed to end up out on the street one way or another. She also noticed his hair and that he was significantly…bulkier…unlike the stick of a boy she had known. Kevin was actually….attractive….not that Peyton would ever tell him that of course. Merlin forbid, his head wouldn’t be able to fit through doors. Peyton cringed slightly as he said her maiden name. It was a reminder of the stupid thing she had done. She had spent most of her year in California and New York, but there had been one trip to Vegas she would forever regret along with a colleague who she had a strange love-hate relationship with. Apparently at the time it had been more love than hate. Peyton was no longer Peyton Cullen but…. The bartender interrupted her train of thought to say "Oi blondie are ya’ goin’ ta’ take their drinks or just stand there lookin’ pretty." Peyton sighed and rolled her eyes, before smiling cheerily back at the bartender. “Actually it’s that way,” Peyton pointed in the right direction, none of which were the directions Kevin had been pointing. “How exactly are you a Hitwizard Kevin without having any sense of direction?” she asked teasingly as she wrote down the table’s order. Peyton didn’t know Kevin all that well but it was difficult not to remember the kid that dropped out of Hogwarts to become a hitwizard. Also Kevin was simply a hard person to forget, he was memorable, his profanities were memorable. It was perhaps why she found this ‘new version of Kevin’ intriguing. “Yes Kevin, out of all the people in all the world I missed you most,” she joked with a shake of her head.
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Post by Mason Mitchell on Aug 19, 2013 11:59:30 GMT -6
((ooc: Sorry couldn't help it, the bits in italic you put sounded way too Mason-esque for me to pass the opportunity up. Also Mason likes cockblocking Kevin so...))
Mason had just finished changing a barrel on one of the pumps which involved a trip down to the cellar, heavy lifting, and lots of muttered cursing under his breath. It was for this reason that perhaps he was a little shorter with Peyton than he'd usually be. The blonde girl confused him to the max - many a time he'd walked into the backroom of the bar ready for his shift only to find her curled up there. As if she didn't have anywhere decent to go. He'd neglected to mention this new fellow bartender to his housemates because he knew that one sniff of a stray and Sam would be in the Three Broomsticks dragging that pretty girl back to their house and offering to share their home, drugs and booze before Peyton even had chance to protest.
So mostly he just let her get on with her life and he got on with his. He preferred it this way with his colleagues. He had developed a sort of repartee with Peyton, however, over some of their regular customers at the pub in the lull it often experienced mid-afternoon. They put on voices and imagined dramatic life stories and scandalous connections between the various (mostly elderly) patrons. Mature or professional Mason was not, but he never claimed to be. He had however clocked his housemate drinking with some of his Hitwizard colleagues and sent said barmaid over to get their orders because he was clearly very busy. Wiping his hands off on a rag as he finished pulling a pint to check the barrel had settled properly, he reached for the Daily Prophet and the pen he'd tucked behind his left ear. Very busy, clearly.
He did keep an eye on Kevin and Peyton though, a smirk lifting the corner of his lips at the former's manner. He had to interrupt because, really, what kind of dick of a housemate would he be if he didn't ruin all of Kevin's attempts at talking to girls? Removing the pen from his mouth, the end of which he'd been absently chewing on as he glanced over the crossword in the Prophet, his unmistakable voice cut through the constant soft hum of te pub's chatter. "Oi blondie are ya’ goin’ ta’ take their drinks or just stand there lookin’ pretty?" he called over to Peyton, smiling cheekily at her as she turned to glance at him and then, when her back was turned once more, he mouthed clearly to Kevin 'not a chance'.
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Post by Kevin Walsh on Aug 20, 2013 17:41:14 GMT -6
While Peyton had her back turned, Kevin leaned dramatically off the edge of his seat to cheerfully flip Mason a series of increasingly obscene gestures.
Hey, some things never change.
He quickly straightened himself out and grinned at Peyton as she turned back to him, quill in hand. "That's the nicest thing you're gonna hear from Mitchell, really. I mean, he almost never calls me pretty." Kevin looked up as a few of his colleagues got out of their chairs for a smoke break. "Oh, I... quit," he admitted, flashing the telltale nicotine patch currently affixed to his right arm. "Hear that? It's almost like he don't have a death wish! And you call yourself a Hitwizard," Dunn laughed before ambling out of the bar.
"Actually, can we get a thing of chips for the table? On me," he told Peyton, figuring that the more he ordered, the more she'd have no choice but to keep coming back to the table, Mason be damned.
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Post by Peyton Sawyer on Aug 21, 2013 10:31:44 GMT -6
Peyton struggled to hold back her laughter in response to Kevin’s teasing about Mason never calling him pretty, “Heh, it’s a shame really, cus you’re so pretty,” she scoffed. She watched the exchange between Kevin and some of his other colleagues, what was the man’s name…Dunn? “What? You, Kevin, you quit smoking? What is the world coming to? Is there some sort of looming apocalypse only the Hitwizards know about?” she asked playfully, her comment directed at Kevin before she began collecting a few empty glasses and plates left by his coworkers.
She turned her attention back to Kevin as he ordered some chips. “Sure,” she answered. Leaving the table she went to the back set her try down and deposited all the dirty dishes into the magically cleaning washer. She then washed her hands and gathered up a bowl of chips and such for the table.
Peyton returned within a few minutes. “Here you are,” she said, “Anything else you’d like?” she asked.
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