Night Out | OPEN

[caitir]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #333333 solid 10px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] come after the rain to please The feeling of walking in through her door, for the first time in weeks, was extremely comforting to Caitir. She had spent the past few weeks in Egypt, with a few other breakers, working to get into a specific vault they'd been excavating for months. So, to be home once more, was something Caitir was thankful for. Not that she didn't enjoy her job, but sometimes, it was just nice to come home and look around at something familiar, something your own. Usually Caitir enjoyed going to Egypt, working and finding new and fascinating things, the hunt, the thrill, the danger. It was a rush for her, but right now, she was just happy to be in her little flat in Diagon Alley, standing in her living room. She went to her bedroom after a few moments and tossed her bag on the bed. She then slipped her wand out of her sleeve and flicked it, muttering a few incantations to get the clothing in the bag flying off in different directions, some to her laundry bin, some to her closet, and others to her dresser. She sighed softly and nodded, before kicking off her shoes and heading for a much needed shower. She had sand in places she really disliked having sand in. Though this was remedied by the hot pressured water of her shower. Taking her time, she got clean and had a few moments of thoughtfulness and pondering, as well as simply enjoying the fact that she had her water pressure back. After she had gotten out and dressed, she decided it was time for a welcome home drink. She had been gone for some time and had missed her weekend antics on Diagon Alley. So, she felt that perhaps a pop down to the Leaky Cauldron was not a half bad idea for the evening. So, with a little bit more pep in her step than before, Caitir made her way out of her room, boot and jacket in hand, and heading to her door. She grabbed her coin purse and slipped it into one of the pockets of her jacket, before shrugging it over her shoulders. She shifted for a moment, getting it more comfortable over her bodice. She then slipped into her boots and zipped them up, making sure her black form fitting pants were neatly tucked inside of the shin high pair of boots. Caitir grabbed her key and slipped it into her pocket as well, resting her wand in it's usual spot inside her bodice, before opening the door and heading out onto the landing. She turned around momentarily to lock the door before heading toward the staircase and out into the alley. She looked to the side once and then the other side before pulling her coat a bit more around herself and closer to her neck, heading toward the Leaky Cauldron. Caitir simply hoped tonight would be and enjoyable welcome home, she wondered, with the rumors of the Dark Lord having his minions everywhere now... if she would come across someone distasteful. She really hoped not... she was not in the mood for unhappy reunions. Making her way toward the Leaky Cauldron, Caitir kept to the side of the street, not wishing to get in anyone's way or cause issue with her face paced walk. When she got to the Leaky Cauldron she opened the door and slipped inside and looked about. Even in the dim lighting, the Cauldron was inviting. She smiled slightly and looked over to the tender, who smiled brightly at her entrance and waved at her. She waved back and headed to the bar. Taking her seat, Cait ordered a shot of Fire Whiskey and downed it swiftly, before promptly ordering another. She took in a deep breath and then exhaled long. It was really good to be home. your eyes with all the colors tagged open words 642 notes suuuccckkkyyy first pooossst. x.x credits irisheyes of C.20

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[phantom]

Phantom was having a lonely time of it, wandering around Diagon. He’d gotten tired of the sights in Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, though he would always wander back, of course, and decided to see some new things. He always liked to look into the windows at the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes (though it usually frightened a couple of poor children, his appearance could be rather terrifying to those not expecting it) and take a gander at the new products the owners had invented and put out for display. It always made him long for the ability to touch corporeal things as he could have had a lot of fun with some of the prank items. He wouldn’t mind owning a pygmy puff or two either, as it could get quite lonely sometimes. He was much older than a lot of the other ghosts and liked to tell stories of the things he remembered, so some of them tended to ignore or avoid him.

He spent an hour or two sighing longingly at the shop windows, too afraid to go in just in case he scared out the customers that looked as though they were having fun picking out the various things they wanted to send to their friends or relatives until a very large an obnoxious woman cruelly shooed him away with her purse.

“Go away!” She exclaimed, her three chins wobbling furiously. “You’re going to spook everyone away from the shops in this area and I won’t have it!”

Sadly enough, Phantom realized she was right and wandered on, trying to think of someplace where they might not mind him so much. Then he remembered the pub he had passed on the way through and remembered how he had often spent a night telling tales to drunken and sometimes tipsy men and women who hadn’t seemed to mind that they could see the bar right through his chest. That seemed like the perfect place to go.

He changed his direction, more sure of himself, and floated straight to the Leaky Cauldron and straight through one of the walls. He drifted around for a bit to see what the general reaction to his presence was, though he couldn’t actually judge what some of the patrons meant with their drunken grunts and wavings of their arms.

He sighed and made his way to the bar, eyeing all the different types of alcohol longingly. He could always try and eat the essence of it, since it was strong enough, but it would never be the same as when he was alive. Without much else to do, he turned to the woman at the bar beside him. She was dressed rather oddly, at least in his opinion, but he had been dead for over a thousand years and thus most of the clothing styles he came into contact with either frightened him or stunned him. He wasn’t sure what to make of this style, though he wasn’t going to be rude enough to remark on it. She might try to throw her glass through his face.

“Would you do an old, lonely soul a favor and listen to a few of my stories?” He implored, though he knew she would probably tell him to bother someone else. This certainly wasn’t like the old days.

tag: caitir | notes: I hope this is okay ^^ I wanted to join in and play for a bit. | words: 550

[caitir]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #333333 solid 10px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] come after the rain to please The power of the drink, the sharpness of the flavor and that desirable burn as it slid down. Oh yes. It was soothing, which was a bit of a paradox considering it burned and stung a bit... made people cough and lose themselves, that didn't quite seem like a comfort, but it was to Caitir. She had met prudes in her time, people who didn't like alcohol, called her deplorable and ill mannered, rude and even a bit obnoxious. Well, piss on them. She enjoyed how she was and there was no way this Scot was going to go around changing for anyone. Even if it meant she'd spend her nights alone, drinking away the hours and laughing with people she didn't even know. She didn't mind, closeness only seemed to get people hurt. She sighed softly, spinning around in her stool a bit, letting the rushing and blurred images of the Leaky Cauldron slide past her gaze. It was interesting, how she could spin and make the world seemingly fade together into a blur of color and texture... then she would stop suddenly and everything was clear once more, with it's sharp edges and defined curves. To be honest, she rather liked the blur, it was easier to handle, it was almost a game, almost a fake, almost not even real. It was better than reality, than missing people and harsh undertones, to hidden agendas and foolish minds thinking they had control. No one in this time period had any control, not with what was happening, and anyone who thought they did was lying to themselves. So, was she lying to herself? Caitir wasn't exactly sure. She knew about her life and what she enjoyed. She knew that she was happy the way she was and didn't much care for the opinions of others. But was she so silly as to think she had control of anything? Well, it didn't matter. She was enjoying herself. She took another shot and motioned for the bartender. He waved at her and she nodded, he'd need a minute. She looked across the bar at what he was doing, apparently someone was a bit more drunk than they should be and was refusing to pay their tab. Well, that was going to end badly for them. Oh well, it was their own fault... they should learn to pay up front, or drink less, if they had an issue with the price of alcohol. Caitir was moments from turning around when suddenly a translucent screen garbled the vision of the irate customer. Caitir quirked her eyebrows and looked over the being for a moment. Well, he certainly wasn't one of the ghosts from Hogwarts, at least not any of the ones she remembered. Though it was possible there were other ghosts out there, she tilted her head, studying him a bit before looking back down at her drink, which had recently been filled. Seems the tender got out his wand to fetch her liquor, poor guy, he'd no doubt be dealing with that drunk fellow for some time. Well, hopefully he wouldn't have to deal with him for that long, it's easy to throw someone out, but harder to throw them out when they owe you a pretty galleon. Caitir's eyes were turned back to the being now, who was apparently speaking to her in his rather liquid voice. Either he was extremely eloquent or she was more tipsy than she originally thought, either way she cocked a sort of half grin and chuckled. Why not? She thought to herself, she'd rather hear something worth while and new than listen to some witch or wizard drone on about their missing hamster or something. Why not take a chance and listen to a little story. What's the worst that could happen? She smiled more fully then. "Why not?" She said, chuckling a bit. "I could use a bit of a distraction. The names Cait by the way." She said, wondering if she should extend her hand or not... She took her shot instead, the smile still on her lips. your eyes with all the colors tagged phantom words 688 notes i don't mind at all! i'm actually excited now! xD credits irisheyes of C.20

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[phantom]

He was absolutely delighted to hear she was willing to let him speak and he bobbed up and down a few times with excitement. He hadn’t expected anyone to tell him to go ahead, and instead had thought he might soon be asked to leave by the irate bartender.

“I am Phantom,” he introduced himself a bit apologetically. “I do not remember my original name and I have long since given up trying. It is quite a pleasure to meet you, Miss Cait.” He bowed to her instead of offering her his hand to shake, as would have been polite, for rather obvious reasons. He thought it might look odd to just stand in the middle of a bar stool so he settled himself to make it look as though he were sitting on it. There were little things he had to do in order to make the humans he talked to feel more at ease and he didn’t mind it so much. That and he didn’t know how far in she was with her drinking. Seeing someone standing in the middle of a stool could possibly, if she were tipsy, make her believe she was worse off than she thought. While sometimes this good be a good thing, the power of the mind was quite impressive and he’d noticed that if one thought they were more drunk than they were in actuality, they ended up acting as drunk as they thought they were.

“I know many stories,” he told her. “I have met many people that you have only read about in history books or heard of from legend. I did not plan on being given a yes to my request, so I have no specific story in mind. Instead, if you please, are you perhaps interested to hear of ancient Rome? Mayhap you would like to hear of your own country’s history, though.” He thought for a moment, then brightened when he thought of something.

“Ah, my favorite to tell is of the time when I met Henry VIII… Oh, but that ends in tragedy.” He smiled apologetically at the woman. “I think most of my stories of important people seem to end in tragedy. Power, when you gain it, treats you ruthlessly.”

tags: caitir | notes: sorry this one ended up being so short. I'll try harder | words: 374