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Post by Reckony Pike on May 29, 2011 18:00:55 GMT -5
His hands were full, and this was somewhat problematic.
Reckony knew when he stopped by the fields outside of Hogsmeade that he was already carrying too much. The weight and breadth of his load, comprising of several rackety old toolboxes, a bound roll of parchment, and an imperfectly-wrapped package that was entirely awkward in its shape, was nearly enough for him to wish he was more accomplished in magic. He almost considered dropping half the goods and returning for them later, but thought better of if both out of ego and convenience. Stifled curses and muffled cries became more audible as fatigue set in his muscles and stopping was absolutely, unquestionably, a heresy. He'd never get going again.
And then he saw the wildflowers.
The sudden scent and splash of Spring brought Reckony from his doldrums and he found himself unconsciously slowing in the waist-high spires of indigo and periwinkle. He was bewildered and bemused by the instant appearance of his favourite season and spoke lovingly and openly to it, as though it were a sister. Well now, where have you been, young lady?
The wildflowers were breathtaking. Gorgeous. Stunning. And not unlike the free spirit he was intending to visit that afternoon. Reckony dropped his load. He'd make room for a bouquet.
* * * * * * * * * *
Arms full and a mouth gagged by a large spray of lupine, Reckony clambered up the stairs to Hogsmeade's one and only apothecary. He would be unable to knock with his fist or to call out to Maebh announcing his arrival. No, it was all futile. He'd have to use his boot. It wasn't until he was upon the entrance, however, that he realized the problem with this option.
Oh right. No door.
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Post by Maebh Breandan on May 31, 2011 21:08:27 GMT -5
The demons, while frightfully entertaining, had done quite a bit of property damage. The actual owner of the Apothecary (an ex-hit wizard a very long time ago) had been amused by the story of tug a waring demons but he hadn't actually believed the gypsy's story. Nope, in his mind she was a good for nothing gypsy who probably wouldn't survive this urge to settle down. Still, he liked her and she had a good head for business so he gave her the job of managing the run down place while he traveled the globe for rare herbs and such.
It was her fault the door was damaged and thus her job to repair it and if she fixed up the place in the process, he'd be very thankful and might actually pay her. Maebh had snorted when she read that note. Doubtful, but she didn't mind. The undercover gypsy was currently upstairs in the small apartment above the little store. She had gotten in late from meeting with her contacts, someone was willing to sell illegal Unicorn blood to one of her "friends". It wasn't a terribly dangerous substance but it could be used for terrible things and the only way to get it was killing such an innocent creature. Maebh was changing when one of her spells alerted her that someone was approaching the store. Slightly winded, she changed out of her meditation clothes and into the wispy scarf skirt her mother had stitched for her. It was stereotypical gypsy clothing, light, comfortable and what everyone in Hogsemeade expected her to wear. She added a chain of coins and bells to sling across her waist and pulled on a large man's tee shirt tying it on the sides. Hair tousled she lightly ran down the stairs and into the shop, careful of the things displayed on the shelves. Her assistant, one of her gypsy cousins had left on an errand to find an herb and wouldn't be back for hours. Especially since that cousin would be practicing back flips the entire time.
The second Maebh saw the state Reck was in she burst out into laughter. Oh it was priceless. The man was carrying so many things he looked like a tinker, and were those flowers in his mouth? Definitely flowers, and fresh from the countryside.
"Oh don't move. I want to savor this moment." She teased as she stopped a foot in front of him, taking in the sight. She doubted she'd see this very often. Slowly, her eyes drank in the barkeeps appearance, lingering on the way his muscles flexed to hold everything. Very...interesting.
"Hmmm what should I help you with first? The arms? Back? Mouth?" She asked tapping her chin with one finger, as if she were actually considering the question. Really, she shouldn't tease a man who came to help her, and who brought flowers but one had to take the light moments when they could and this was far too good a moment to pass up.
"Hmmm most delicate first? Yes. " She leaned forward, grabbing the parchment that was nestled in a crook of his arm. Then she reached for a tool box, her fingers lightly dancing over his arm before grabbing the handle.
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Post by Reckony Pike on Jun 1, 2011 23:41:54 GMT -5
The lyricism of Maebh Breandan's laughter caused the barkeep to stammer and for once he was silenced beyond the limits of the flower bouquet in his mouth. Reckony was captured, arrested, by the light of the woman's being and for that moment, that split second, he believed that there were mortal angels among ordinary men.
Reckony caught sight of the delicate scarf that sat snug against the gypsy's hips and his head listed to the melodic chimes of the bells around her narrow waist. Maebh had a swoon, she had a sway and within mere seconds he was hypnotized by her approach. The glint of mischief in her eyes was oh so becoming.
"Oh don't move. I want to savor this moment."
The barkeep spoke through the flowers:
"Take all the time you need, love. I'm just going to pass out now, but wake me when you need me."
Normally, Reckony disliked the word 'adorable.' It reminded him of a golden puppy or of that degree of innocence reserved for the sickly sweet and fluffily awkward. And yet, it was the only word that seemed even moderately appropriate to describe the way the gypsy mocked his predicament. She alone made him like the quality of adorable and he wished she would do it more.
"Hmmm what should I help you with first? The arms? Back? Mouth?"
The latter suggestion left Reckony suddenly uncomfortable as he fought an intense wave of heat that rose through his stomach, heart and chest. The gypsy was a tease and he was beyond certain that she was not expecting an answer to her question. But that did not keep him from praying...
Mouth. Mouth. Mouth.
"Hmmm most delicate first? Yes."
And she grabbed the parchment.
Damn.
"Thanks."
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Post by Maebh Breandan on Jun 2, 2011 23:31:51 GMT -5
Despite the rather shabby surroundings and her eccentric outfit, Maebh felt like a coveted Princess. The warmth of Reckony's gaze flickered across her skin captivating her. All her worries faded away. For just a moment there was no broken door, ravenous demons, overprotective, hovering older brothers or the looming Ministry. Just a man and a woman exploring possibilities. She knew very little about this man, except that he was blustery yet sweet, loyal and energetic. There was a gusto about him that drew her in, challenged her to meet his fervour. It would be met.
"Take all the time you need, love. I'm just going to pass out now, but wake me when you need me."
Maebh shot him an 'oh, really' look. She doubted that he'd give in so easily like the "boys" she had dated in the past. This gypsy was no stranger to the world of romance, but her relationships never lasted very long. In the past, things turned stale very quickly. It seemed that no one could keep up with her.
Her mother taught her that teasing wasn't very nice, but sometimes it paid to break the rules. The heat in his eyes made her smile. Oh, she knew where he wanted her to "assist" him. While it would be diverting to discover his style of kissing, she didn't want to give in to temptation too soon. The wait often made it more fun.
"Thanks."
"Your welcome, you can put your load down on the floor if you like." she said placing the tool box she had taken from him off to the side near a rack of spices. She laid the parchment on top before turning to help make it easier for him to put things away. An oddly shaped parcel caught her attention and she cocked her head to the side as she tried to guess what it was. She liked guessing games.
"What's in the package? Is it a new statue depicting the epic demon battle of Hogsmeade that should be displayed in front of the three broom sticks?" It probably was no such thing but it was a imaginative guess.
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Post by Reckony Pike on Jun 5, 2011 15:38:46 GMT -5
"Ahhhh, my darling. The answer to your question, I'm afraid, will require you to wait. But I'm not a cruel man; I shall give you hints. First of all, it's for you. Second of all, it requires a door with a window, which I will be honoured to supply. Thirdly, I made it. And that is all you shall know."
Reckony heaved the last of his tools on to the floor, being careful not to dent or scratch the wooden floorboards. He grabbed a sheet that he had rolled in to a canvas bag and set it about the area that would become his meticulous workspace. Calloused hands knowingly and lovingly touched the doorframe, inspecting it for warps and knots and areas that defied being level. Pike was a closet craftsman. He snatched a claw hammer and chisel from his box.
"I shall be here a while. Magic is certainly quicker but quality takes a bit more time. Are you sure today is the best day for you? I don't want to hijack your plans, in case you've, well, in case you've arranged to meet someone else. It is a beautiful Sunday, after all. That gentle spring breeze..." Smooth, or at least Reckony hoped it was. In all their banter, in all their ambition and coyness, Reckony and Maebh had managed to avoid a number of points of conversation that the barkeep felt were now gaining importance. Unless he was reading the probing fingers of electricity wrong.
* Was Maebh attached? * Did she fancy him? * Did she know that he fancied her? * Was Maebh attached? * Did she enjoy his company? * Did she know that he fancied her company? * Was Maebh attached? * Why did she choose to keep company with that, that Star Cloak? * Did she know that he was less favourable to said Star Cloak? * Was Maebh, God, the thought was disgusting. Was Maebh attached to Star Cloak? They had shared knives? What did that mean in her fantastic gypsy world?
Reckony calculated the width and height of the frame, paying particular attention to its unique arches; he found them quite handsome. Yes, the wood he had secured for her door would be perfect.
"Theodore had an ancient oak fall upon the family property over winter. He offered me the trunk for my woodwork and I have a perfect cut for this space. Carved it myself. Are you agreeable to oak? I promise, its roots have grown in proper soil."
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Post by Maebh Breandan on Jun 9, 2011 11:42:13 GMT -5
He made her something. The thought that this man would spend precious time on her laboring on something sent a thrill down her spine. Maebh couldn't help but grin, pleased. This man was different from the others that had chased after her in the past, or she had sought out. No one had ever made her anything before. Wrote bad poetry and lyrics yes, but songs about how pretty her eyes were a dime a dozen. Now, something that was made and for her door no less was special. This might just be a keeper. Shouldn't that scare Maebh? She was not ready to settle down, not really. She was twenty nine and still in the prime of her live, her desire to perform on stages might have diminished but she was not ready to go to the rector's noose anytime soon. Maybe not ever.
"stained glass?" She asked, wondering if it was that easy to guess. If it wasn't, what could it be? A chime? But did that require a door with a window? Her last door was not at all pretty and did not hold a window.
"I shall be here a while. Magic is certainly quicker but quality takes a bit more time. Are you sure today is the best day for you? I don't want to hijack your plans, in case you've, well, in case you've arranged to meet someone else. It is a beautiful Sunday, after all. That gentle spring breeze..."
"Today is fine. I have herbs to dry and potions to brew today. A few of my items are running low. I might have to leave this afternoon, a gypsy caravan might be passing the outskirts of hogsmeade today and i'll need to exchange pleasantries." And pick up the supplies she had requested. Working for the ministry had it benefits. Now, she had plenty of money to purchase herbs from her kin folk and glean information. Bribes often helped.
"You can stay as long as you need. I could help if you'd like....my potions will have to steam for a while..." Merlin, she was a pathetic little girl, asking to stay by his side.
"Theodore had an ancient oak fall upon the family property over winter. He offered me the trunk for my woodwork and I have a perfect cut for this space. Carved it myself. Are you agreeable to oak? I promise, its roots have grown in proper soil."
"That would be great." she knew nothing about the benefits of proper soil and she trusted Reck. If he thought it to be perfect then it was.
"Do you want anything to drink? Tea? Coffee? oh, I have some flat bread, if you'd prefer that..."
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Post by Reckony Pike on Jun 11, 2011 21:48:16 GMT -5
"Stained glass?"
"Oh but you are so close, my dashing spirit. Not stained glass, but kudos for the try." Reckony winked and smiled beneath his light stubble, which seemed to have grown more fiercely since the night of the demon attack. He wasn't sure whether it was the result of hormones or fright, but either way, he was becoming rather the Sasquatch and would soon require a shave. Love did that to you.
The barkeep returned his attention to the project at hand, knowing that his ballad with Maebh required more verses and less chorus. Rushing in to romance was never a successful venture with Reckony Pike, and he wagered that V would acknowledge the same. He would have to be patient.
"A gypsy caravan past Hogsmeade? This afternoon? Maebh Breandan: you have your ear to the earth. Simply amazing. You know, I wish I had even a whisper of your intel. I try to stay on top of our village's comings and goings but it can rain in Hogsmeade and I'll only realize it after the sun's come out. Which reminds me, I'd like you to seriously consider what I said the other day...about our little group. We're holding a meeting in the bar tomorrow night to address these latest concerns. We could use you and I would be most obliged if you would help us. People are scared. We're not as strong as we once were."
"Ah, look at this." Reckony suddenly changed pace and reached innocently for Maebh's hand, bringing her through the shop's entrance to show her the door frame he had been inspecting. His enthusiasm had increased exponentially and it provided a glimpse in to a passion that the barkeep knew only in adulthood. "Now that's very interesting. Look in to the corners and again along the side. Square nails. Hand-crafted square nails. Very old, very antique...and very Muggle." Reck stole a glance in the gypsy's direction, becoming momentarily lost in her graceful features and in the way her soft umber locks framed a flawless, porcelain face. Her eyes held a depth that left him breathless and he wished that he could remain there - as her silent observer - forever. He would gratefully serve as her boswell, if only she would let him.
"Another piece to your mystery."
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Post by Maebh Breandan on Jun 18, 2011 15:32:52 GMT -5
"Oh but you are so close, my dashing spirit. Not stained glass, but kudos for the try." The wink brought out a laugh from Maebh and she snapped her fingers in response to getting the answer wrong. Hmmm not stained glass. A wood carving? What could he have brought her for her door that was close to stained glass?
V stayed by Reck's side to watch him work. Her father would often fix their wagon by hand, with the help of a bit of magic of course, but this was different. For one thing, a handsome man trained in the art of flirting was the one fixing her door. Two he had strange tools.
"A gypsy caravan past Hogsmeade? This afternoon? Maebh Breandan: you have your ear to the earth. Simply amazing. You know, I wish I had even a whisper of your intel. I try to stay on top of our village's comings and goings but it can rain in Hogsmeade and I'll only realize it after the sun's come out. Which reminds me, I'd like you to seriously consider what I said the other day...about our little group. We're holding a meeting in the bar tomorrow night to address these latest concerns. We could use you and I would be most obliged if you would help us. People are scared. We're not as strong as we once were."
Maebh shrugged a shoulder at Reck's praise. To her, keeping track of people and information was easy. Conversations were her life blood. And there were ways gypsies let each other know that they would be in their territory. Besides, Maebh was expecting them, not that Reck knew that, nor would she tell him so just yet. The Black Watch invitation was a complication that was probably something Maebh couldn't ignore. On one hand it would be a perfect way to gather intel and further insulate herself in the village. On the other it would be tricky to balance all of her work and her handler's at the ministry might not approve of it. Or would want her to report on their comings and goings. For some reason, Maebh doubted that Reckony would be even less forgiving if she joined and he discovered her work for the department of law enforcement. Then again, it would look suspicious if she didn't join.
"I'll try and come to the meeting. Check it out. Dunno how much help I can be." Did they need/want a spy master? Before Maebh could question Reckony more about what being a member entailed he had reached for her hand. Eager, Maebh reached out her own and allowed the shopkeeper to lead her to her door.
Now that's very interesting. Look in to the corners and again along the side. Square nails. Hand-crafted square nails. Very old, very antique...and very Muggle."
It was just a piece of wood. But to him it was like a bolt of the softest silk. Maebh coveted pretty, luxurious things. It was one of her weakness. As she looked, trying to see what Reck did, she did notice the carefully crafted nails and could appreciate the artistry that went into the work.
"Another piece to your mystery."
Maebh turned to Reck a soft smile on her face.
"It's not my puzzle piece. But I'll claim it. I actually don't own this property, just run the shop for an old friend while he spends his aching years in a warmer clime."
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Post by Reckony Pike on Jun 19, 2011 22:10:03 GMT -5
"Ownership is a term of many meanings. You may not own the property on title but I assure you, your heart fills these walls. That's a degree of ownership that holds just as much importance, if not more. I own the Three Broomsticks but I don't own her. I understand."
Reckony's stomach felt rather like a mosh pit of raging electric butterflies. It was unnatural that he was falling so fast and so hard for the woman, given his personal rules for such affairs. In his position at the pub, the barkeep was often the target of many "spirited" lasses, most of whom wanted a midnight fling or at least a sturdy, if not awkward snog. But here Reckony was the pursuer and Maebh was nothing like the wild witches of Hogsmeade. She was a woman for whom there were no suitable words; her light was immeasurable and indefinable.
Worried that the fluttery sensation might be evident in his expression, Reck reached for a level and invited Maebh to hold it up against the top part of the frame with him. His massive hands dwarfed the Muggle tool.
"This is called a level. See that little peanut-shaped bubble in the liquid? The Muggles use that to determine whether things are aligned properly. We'll check the top here, and then each side." Reckony leaned over to place the level on either side, enjoying the warmth that radiated from the gypsy goddess. Finally, "In this case your frame is perfect. Very perfect." He smiled. "No surprise there."
Perhaps that was too forward. Reck blushed unnoticeably and excused himself as he looked for his tape measure. With Maebh blocking his entrance back in to the store, he felt rather exposed out on the veranda, but he would counter the moment with an innocent question...
"So, do you know that other gypsy well? That one that helped us with the demons?"
...or not.
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Post by Maebh Breandan on Jun 25, 2011 19:58:45 GMT -5
"Ownership is a term of many meanings. You may not own the property on title but I assure you, your heart fills these walls. That's a degree of ownership that holds just as much importance, if not more. I own the Three Broomsticks but I don't own her. I understand."
Maebh frowned slightly as she listened to Reck talk about ownership. Was he right? Did her heart fill the walls? Her taking over the apothecary had started out as a front for her undercover work. It was a base for contacts really. She provided unsavory characters with information to people who knew people who eventually led them to a sting or they were eventually flipped and used as informants. Somewhere along the way, her life in hogsmeade became more than a front. She actually liked running a business, making the different potions and exliers.
Maebh pulled herself out of her thoughts and returned her attention to the very interesting man before her. The barkeep moolighting as a handy man was pulling out a strange square stick thing from his tool set. Curious, she stepped forward as he waved her over. She would have gone with or without the invitation... Together they held the tool to the door. Maebh waited, unsure what the device was supposed to tell her. Not that she could concentrate. Distraction came in the form of masculine scent and she fought the urge to breath deeply. Surely, he'd hear her large breath and wonder.
"This is called a level. See that little peanut-shaped bubble in the liquid? The Muggles use that to determine whether things are aligned properly. We'll check the top here, and then each side." Reckony leaned over to place the level on either side, enjoying the warmth that radiated from the gypsy goddess. Finally, "In this case your frame is perfect. Very perfect." He smiled. "No surprise there."
Before Maebh could lean towards him, bringing their bodies into contact, Reck danced backwards and away from her. Was he shy? Or scared that he had said the right thing. Maebh liked the compliment, even if it was around about.
"Thank you. You must have an excellent tool." She replied with a saucy grin. Maebh liked him and while it was good to take things slow, she didn't really have the patience.
"So, do you know that other gypsy well? That one that helped us with the demons?"
Other gypsy?
"You mean Conan?" She asked a little confused. Why was he asking her that question? Probably because he'd seen them together a lot. Surely, he knew they were related? Of course he did.
"Sort of. We were closer when we were younger. He's full of himself but a good person when you get past his conceit."
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Post by Reckony Pike on Jul 14, 2011 21:52:24 GMT -5
Reckony regarded Maebh with deep, lucite-green eyes, the furrows in his face further etched by the filtered light entering the patio. He watched her lips part as she began to speak. For a moment he wished only to silence her with a kiss.
"You mean Conan? Sort of. We were closer when we were younger. He's full of himself but a good person when you get past his conceit."
Conan. His pain finally had an identity. Reck had seen the way Maebh and Conan had bantered together in public. Their duet during the demon attack and their fling at the May Day fair did not go unnoticed by the barkeep, and his growing love for the gypsy goddess was quickly framed by an intense and ill-hidden jealousy. The run-ins with Conan that followed these events were growing near hostile.
"Oh." Reckony nodded, his voice growing slightly quieter. His smile was simply out of politeness. "Well, conceit or not, if you're sure of him than perhaps I should be a bit more welcoming. I'm afraid our visits have been less than cordial."
Reckony no longer knew his friends from childhood. He didn't really have any friends outside of family until he reached Hogwarts, and those acquaintances he promptly forgot after a short stint in prison. The exception being Theo Bowre.
"I don't see Conan around Hogsmeade all that often. Does he live here or?"
Does he live here with you?
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Post by Maebh Breandan on Jul 14, 2011 22:13:16 GMT -5
What was this fixation on her brother? The man was a pest to be sure, but he wasn't that interesting was he? Maebh didn't think that they got along. Actually, she had a distinct impression that they hated each other. Conan had a talent for irritating people outside of performances. He was a talented performer...just not so great at normal conversation. Especially if that person he was trying to converse with showed any interest in his little sister.
"Well, conceit or not, if you're sure of him than perhaps I should be a bit more welcoming. I'm afraid our visits have been less than cordial."
"He has that effect on people. Don't allow his gruffness to push you away. He's overprotective of me and likes to fancy himself a hero. He's more like a mother dragon," Maebh said with a roll of her eyes. It was sweet but very annoying to have a big brother who scared boys-men away. All her life Maebh was trying to keep Conan out of the way. More than once he scared off a boy who had been trying to kiss her. Half the time she tried to convince her boyfriends that her brother wasn't going to challenge them to a duel or put a gypsy hex on them. No one believed her when she mentioned he was a squib.
"I don't see Conan around Hogsmeade all that often. Does he live here or?"
"Conan's a free spirit. I don't think he has a permanent residence lately. Actually, I haven't seen him in this area of London for this long in years. He might be staying near by due to the gypsy caravan that is arriving soon..." Maebh offered good naturally.
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