Wednesday Morning

[Madame Rosmerta]

((ooc: Being tacky and posting my sample.))

Rosmerta's mood had not recovered since her long trek to work that morning. Sure, it was hours ago, but the large thunderstorm had considerably dampened her spirits. So, she sat on one of the barstools behind the bar with the other waitresses, a warmed cup of Butterbeer clasped firmly in her hands. Like her employees, she glared gloomily out the window, gazing at the torrents of rain that were still pouring down upon the sidewalk.

Rosmerta sighed, on any other day she'd be bustling around, serving and making drinks for customers by then. Today there was virtually no one in the pub, save for a hobo asleep under his cloak in one of the booths. Her sigh was contagious, many of the other waitresses were sighing as well before Rosmerta had closed her mouth. Smiling, she looked around and winked at them.

The minimal level of merryment that moment had caused deceased almost immediately, and the sound of the rain lashing the roof returned at full force. Taking a sip of her drink, Rosmerta took the chance to fully examine the pub for the sixth--yes, she was counting--time that day. There were the many bronze and brown booths lining the once white walls, long since stained amber by years of second hand smoke. There were the twenty or so wooden tables, gleaming under the magically intensified light of torches hung in brackets on the walls. The roof leaked- there were several tin pans scattered about to catch the dripping water.

Resting her chin in her hands, Rosmerta sighed again, and was echoed by everyone else. Even the man under the cloak's snoring seemed to inhabit a sighing sort of quality.

[Donovan Sphynx]

Donovan, the Stonewall Stormers' seeker, had just had a tough practice back at the field, even though the results were satisfying. He was exhausted, and he badly needed a drink. Listening to the captain rant on about this year's cup made him weary; not to mention add on more stress. He couldn't help but wish the captain would retire soon, and felt bad immediately.

The tall blonde pushed open the door to the familiar shop located at Hogsmeade; it had been too long since he had been here, and he missed those nights sneaked out to come here. He knew The Three Broomsticks was taken by someone else; in fact, he had met her once or twice.

Don sat at the bar, his eyes, which were behind a pair of sunglasses, searched for the shopkeeper. When he finally found her, he raised his hand to call her over. "Firewhiskey," Don ordered.

[Madame Rosmerta]

Rosmerta looked up from staring into the dephs of her mug as the the little bell on the door rang. A man walked in, his eyes masked by dark sunglasses. Rosmerta watched him walk to the bar and sit down. She considered getting up to help him, but before she could move at all, he raised his hand, beckoning her over.

Sighing slightly, Rosmerta abandoned her cup of butterbeer and stood. She walked over to his end of the bar and looked at him expectantly. At his order, she merely nodded and grabbed a large, thick glass from under the counter. She turned her back o him and grabbed one of the pitchers from above the stove.

Rosmerta went back to the man and set the glass down on the table. She poured in the liquid from the pitcher and yawned. "Want me to leave the pitcher?" she asked, raising it slightly.

[Donovan Sphynx]

Don took off his sunglasses. There were few people here; it didn't matter if he were to be recognised. His lips twitched at her yawn; did he look that boring? Unlike his team mates who labelled him as 'hunk', he didn't render himself so.

"Leave it," he said, nodding, as he brought the mug of Firewhiskey to his lips. The liquid burned his throat, but he didn't mind.

[Madame Rosmerta]

Rosmerta looked at him for a few moments after he took off his sunglasses. She definately knew him from somewhere, she just didn't know where. "You look familliar," she idly said and lowered the pitcher back onto the table.

She turned to go and started walking back to her stool. A few of her staff were giggling and whispering behind their hands. Rosmerta mentally shrugged and say back down.