make it count --

“Everyone You've Loved,” Susannah Irene

“ ahh. ” dudley nods, face morphing into something more friendly ( he hadn't noticed & it wasn't conscious, but he had been giving off a slightly pissed-off aura ). the shirt is much less egregious than some of the other highlights of his wardrobe : something bright, still work-friendly, but not quite alongside the heights of his horrid hawaiian fascination. though, if he thought he could get away with wearing one of those in the office, he absolutely would. “ it was a gift? occasion's not that serious. ” there's a hopeful tone in his voice on the last words, hoping to coax a similar conclusion from them. 

"    yeah.  tenacity.  or,  y’know,  something  along  those  lines.    "    it’s  highly  possible  that  was  just  the  hopeless  romantic  hiding  somewhere  inside  her  talking  though.  the  one  that  still  believed    (    despite  life  continuously  trying  to  show  her  otherwise    )    there  was  a  person  out  there  for  everyone,  even  the  people  using  terrible  chat  up  lines  in  bars.  light  laughter  escapes  at  the  other’s  observation  and  what  else  can  andie  do,  except  half  -  grimace    /    half  -  nod  in  agreement?  the  bar  had  hardly  become  known  for  stellar  reputation.    "    i  do,  for  all  my  sins.      ⸻      oh,  we  definitely  get  some  interesting  customers.  there’s  a  whole  lot  of  fighting,  whole  lot  of  everything  else.  but  it  pays  the  bills,  so  a  gal  can’t  complain,  right?    "    especially  not  when  there  wasn’t  exactly  much  else  on  offer.  posture  straightens  when  conversation  directs  to  marco  and  this  time,  head  shakes,  lips  pressing  together  in  an  attempt  to  keep  a  straight  face.    "    the  kid?  no.  no,  i  swiped  him  from  a  stranger  when  they  weren’t  looking.  i’m  thinking  of  demanding  a  ransom.    "    the  act  doesn’t  last  long.  couldn’t  possibly,  when  every  fibre  in  andrea’s  being  bursts  with  pride    &    adoration  while  looking  at  her  son.  features  took  break  out  into  a  wide  smile,  letting  some  of  that  seep  through.    "    he’s  mine.  marco.    "

dudley glances quickly down at the shirt in question, as if it's about to jump up at him, but can't see anything in particular that's out of the ordinary. "what d'you mean?" he pulls it down a little self-consciously, trying to brush out some of the more egregious creases, hand finally going to the collar in case that's gotten in a tangle. it's a bit more dressed up than he's used to, that much is true, but he didn't think it was that much of a big deal. "what's wrong with it?"

“ — because of the rating system. one to ten. so you're a ten. and the only one here. ” the are you from tennesse on a stranger is, in fact, the result of a lost bet. tempest isn't best pleased to learn that there was witnesses to the subsequent humiliation when they overhear shiloh's reaction & subsequent conversation - it wouldn't be so bad, really, if they hadn't had to explain the pick-up line. that and the polite smile the stranger offers before they dip, all add up to some fairly desperate scrambling for a shot. they manage to hold off on the confrontation for about half - an - hour, before they invade the tucked-away corner, eyes square on shiloh. they lean a little too closely, but the smile on their face reaches their eyes, and they're trying not to come off threatening, at the very least. “ i'm not accepting criticism at this time. i'm fragile, thank you. ”

“ you ready to lose ? ” tempest has a holyhead harpies t-shirt on ( for the inter-team solidarity and nothing more, of course ), potato sack pulled up to their waist. they'd entered the previous hour's race as a joke, egged on by teammates who knew exactly how to push their competitive buttons, and well. they'd beaten the children, and one or two of their parents. tempest had won. and naturally, with an illegal bet between friends placed on their head for this hour, it was time to get in their opponent's heads. too bad if they weren't taking this as seriously as she was. “ i'm gonna kick your— ” glance is given to a child in close proximity. “ — butt. ” it doesn't quite have the same ring.

"      i  think  he  truly  thought  it  was  gonna  work  and  for  that?      ⸻      i  kinda  have  to  admire  the  tenacity.      "      she  doesn’t  often  find  herself  in  this  position;    standing  at  a  bar  as  a  customer  rather  than  server,  but  today  is  a  rare  day  off  and  for  once?  andie  intended  to  enjoy  the  guilt-free  treat  of  eating  lunch  out.  or  at  least,  she’ll  enjoy  it  now    /    let  the  guilt  sink  in  later  when  she’s  hunching  over  bills,  thinking  about  how  galleons  could’ve  been  better  spent.  a  future - her  problem.  eyes  abandon  the  failed  pick  up  and  a  quick  glance  to  the  left  confirms  marco  is  still  sitting  at  nearby  table,  furiously  coloring  while  his  mama  waits  to  make  an  order.  she  turns  to  shiloh  then,  offering  faint    (  though  nonetheless  amused    )    smile.      "      oh,  i’ve  heard  worse.  the  charmers  that  drink  at  the  white  wyvern  aren’t  quite  as  suave  as  they  believe.  sometimes  they  don’t  even  use  lines.  they  just  sort  of    .  .  .    grunt  in  your  general  direction.      "

elliot + holding olivia back 

the bell over the door gave a little trill to announce the arrival of a customer and from the back room antigone called, "i'll be with you in just a moment!" the oak & dragon heartstring wand that she had been studying was first priority - laid to rest once more in the box it had come from and placed so strategically back in its place that the box lined back up with the dust print it had created over its time here, and only then did she make her way to the front of the store, emerging from an almost invisible gap in the tall shelves to say, with customer service smile tacked on, "i'm sorry to keep you waiting! how can i help you?"

"oh. i don’t work here-” are the first words out of her mouth when flagged down by a leaky cauldron customer, though her current position behind the bar doesn’t help the far from apologetic statement ring true. she looks down at the cloth she had ventured down to rob and back up at them, very visibly weighing up how to proceed before admitting, with a wave around the general area, “well, i do, but not... here.” old tom would have her HEAD if she started messing with the beer taps again, and luca can’t think of anyone worth the hassle of his wrath. she could have taken their order, but it was much easier in the long run to leave it at, “someone’ll come along, eventually. you can’t have been waiting too long...?”