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Post by Dylan Woods on Dec 9, 2009 11:10:03 GMT -5
(Because I never use Dylan)
It wasn’t often that Dylan made his way into town. It was only when he ran out of supplies. Of course, it wasn’t food or water that he needed. He kept those supplies safely stowed in the underground cellar he had dug a long time ago. And even if he did run out, he could usually find something by hunting or fishing.
No, what Dylan needed was a little more superficial. He needed books and paper and ink. His cabin was filled with them. After all, what else was there to do when one lived alone in the forest? The winter had been rough, and he spent most of his time in the cabin, writing or reading. As a result, he’d finished all of his books and used up all of his paper.
The only problem with this was that he couldn’t get those things without money. So he had no choice now… he was going to have to find some kind of job that he could take, in order to earn enough money to buy what he needed. He usually did odd jobs—chopping wood, repairing houses, cleaning gardens… that sort of thing. He would just have to see what he could find.
It was early morning, so the streets of the town weren’t too crowded. Still, he walked slowly and cautiously, trying not to get in anyone’s way. The building called the Hog’s Head was usually a good place to find jobs, so he headed in that direction
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Post by Iris Elliot on Mar 22, 2011 21:44:24 GMT -5
Iris Elliot usually had her morning coffee at Hog's Head. After that she would go back to the bookstore she inherited from her mother and sort out through all the new books. Then around ten am, she would open the store for the mid afternoon shoppers and after she closed, she would head back to Hog's Head to have a drink with some of her friends and then it would be back home and in bed. When she awoke the next morning, it would be the same routine.
Except that this morning it wasn't. Iris had been sick for the past couple of days and thanks to the potion she had to take she needed a lot of sleep. So she woke up late. She quickly dressed and ran out of her apartment. The Hog's Head was relatively close to where she lived so walking or in this case, running wasn't much of a problem...for people that actually exercised once in a blue moon. Once she was out of breath and close to the Hog's Head, she slowed to a walk and tried to catch her breath. Sometimes, she wished that she liked to exercise.
Iris liked Hogsmeade at this time of day. It was quiet and the sun had just come up an hour or so ago, yet it was extremely bright. The only people were out were shop keepers or a random few making the walk of shame from a bar or pub. Iris stepped into the Hog's Head and noticed she was one of two people (the other being the owner). She smiled brightly at him and asked for her usual. She took a seat at the bar and waited patiently for her drink. She was surprised when she saw the door open, blinding her with sunlight, and someone walked in.
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Post by Dylan Woods on Mar 23, 2011 0:33:47 GMT -5
He probably looked fairly disheveled, despite his best efforts to clean up. He didn't even own a mirror, and his best brush was an old one he'd fashioned himself out of thin twigs and a carved piece of wood. He had bathed in the river, using the last of the soap he'd purchased the last time he'd been in town. But his clothes were always torn and tattered, with patches and messy stitching where he'd tried to mend them.
Usually at this time of morning, the Hog's Head was all but empty. The owner was there, as always, tending to his goats. Sometimes Dylan bought goat cheese from him, if there was any available. But this time he was not the only one in the pub. A girl--no, a woman--was sitting at the bar, waiting for a drink. And she had turned to look him when he opened the door. It made Dylan uneasy, almost enough to make him back out.
No, it was all right. He expected to see people in the town. He was here to try and get a job, so he shouldn't let himself get scared away. He kept his head down and headed toward the bulletin board, where there were often job opportunities posted. Hopefully there would be something there for him.
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Post by Iris Elliot on Mar 23, 2011 0:53:31 GMT -5
Iris eyed the man that just stepped. His appearance was wild, yet he was shy. She could tell by the way he immediately put his head down when he saw her watching him. She tried to offer up a warm smile, but he wasn't looking. He was headed towards the bulletin board. It seems that's why he looked disheveled. He was working petty jobs. Making ends meet when he needed the money. Before she could study him more, the barkeep brought her a drink and she thanked him with another friendly smile.
"Do you know him?" She asked the bartender. He just shrugged and went back out to take care of his goats. She looked back over. She couldn't figure out why she was so intrigued by this stranger. But perhaps, that's exactly why she was interested. He was a stranger. She had never seen him before. Iris figured she'd probably freak him out if she just went up and started talking to him. It freaked most people out so he wouldn't be the first.
Then it struck Iris. She was tiny. She couldn't lift over thirty pounds. Maybe she would offer him a job. Not a full-time, not demanding. Just something to keep her from lifting heavy stuff and something to get him money. Iris groaned at herself. Her curiosity streak was kicking and she couldn't help the urge she felt to help him. She decided that she would control herself this time and waited for him to get done with his search. She would just catch him when he was walking back out.
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Post by Dylan Woods on Mar 23, 2011 23:38:09 GMT -5
Dylan shoved his hands into his pockets, staring at the bulletin board. There weren't a lot of jobs that he could do. Some woman named Mrs. McCartney needed a babysitter. He couldn't do that. Another woman named Ms. McGillicutty needed someone to walk her dogs. That, too, was out of the question. But there was an ad from a Mrs. Dalton who needed a handyman. That was something he could probably handle, and he reached up to tear the little strip of paper with her contact information from the ad. Another ad from a Mr. Sharp asked for someone to help with yard work, and he could probably handle that one as well. Neither would likely pay very much, but then, he didn't need much.
With the two notes folded up in his pocket, Dylan turned and started toward the door. If the barkeep had been alone in the pub, he might have stopped to order one of those butterbeers that he liked, but the woman was still sitting there, so he began his slow shuffle toward the door.
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Post by Iris Elliot on Mar 24, 2011 0:06:16 GMT -5
Iris almost lost her nerve when she saw him actually pick two names off the bulletin board. He had found something that interested him. Maybe she wouldn't need to offer him work after all. She still really wanted that help at the store, but she didn't know if she should get it from him. She sighed into her drink. She really needed to get over the need to help every person she sees. Not everyone wanted her help and she knew that. So why did she feel like it was her job to take care of everyone?
Iris watched out of her peripheral vision as he made his way to the door. Now would be her chance. He was almost gone. She fidgeted. She needed to do this now if she was going to. About the time he was almost to the door, she swiveled in her chair and hurried up behind. Close enough so she wouldn't need to call after him. but far enough way so that he wouldn't be freaked out. She cleared her throat and adjusted he clothes.
"Umm, excuse me?" She was surprised to hear her voice shake. "Are you currently looking for work?"
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Post by Dylan Woods on Apr 1, 2011 23:21:14 GMT -5
Dylan was surprised to hear the woman's voice, and he stopped for a moment, his eyes darting around the dimly-lit pub to see who else she might be talking to. He couldn't quite believe that she would be talking to him... ladies like her didn't usually pay attention to him. She was well dressed and pretty, and clean, and he was sure that he wasn't any of those things.
But, yes, he was looking for work, and there didn't appear to be anyone else in the room besides woman and the pub owner. Slowly, he turned to face the woman, his eyes downcast.
"Yes, I am," he said in a low, mumbly voice.
If she was listening carefully, she would notice that even though he mumbled and didn't carefully enunciate his words, he was surprisingly well-spoken, saying "yes" instead of "yeah."
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Post by Iris Elliot on Apr 12, 2011 21:56:16 GMT -5
Iris watched him as he looked around the room carefully, obviously not used to people or conversation. He kept his eyes looking down rather than at her face. On one hand, she felt slightly uncomfortable and on the other, he seemed so proper, so polite. Like he thought he would offend her by looking at her.
"Well, that's great to hear. As you can probably tell, I'm not very strong. I have some heavy lifting that needs to be done down at my bookstore. If you think you can do it, I'd be willing to pay you."
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Post by Dylan Woods on Apr 12, 2011 22:55:15 GMT -5
He was about to turn her down. After all, he had picked two names from the job board, and they were more the kind of work he was looking for--short-term, temporary, menial, outdoors. He couldn't really commit himself to a "real" job. But then she said the magic word, and if he'd been in his wolf form, his ears would have literally perked up.
"A bookstore?" he repeated, his eyes darting up to look at her, briefly making contact with her gaze.
She was, he noticed, quite small. Delicate-looking, he might even say. He could believe that lifting heavy boxes would be difficult, if not impossible for her. And a bookstore... he almost didn't even need her to pay him. He'd spend most of it on books, anyway.
"I can do that," he said, unconsciously straightening up just a little more.
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Post by Iris Elliot on Jul 9, 2011 20:32:45 GMT -5
Although Iris's plan was tricky, he had accepted the help she was offering by offering to help her. She smiled lightly. She didn't think breaking out in a huge grin and cackle would make him feel anymore comfortable, but she was surprised at how happy she was that her plan had worked. She was also pleased to note that he actually looked her in the eyes and stood a little prouder. She didn't know if it was because she mentioned money or because he was proud of the work he did.
"Thank you so much. I really appreciate this. It would never have gotten done." She took a napkin from the bar and with her wand wrote the address to her shop. "Here." She said, reaching slowly towards him with the napkin. She didn't want to freak him out with her jerky movements or anything. "This is the address to the bookstore. I'm there all the time. Whenever you're ready, just come along Mr....I'm sorry. I never did catch your name."
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Post by Dylan Woods on Jul 10, 2011 23:10:08 GMT -5
Dylan had seen magic used before, of course, but it never failed to fascinate him. Once he had tried to make a wand for himself out of a tree branch--he'd whittled it until it was perfectly shaped, and he'd even polished it to a fine gloss. It was only later that he learned he was missing two important ingredients to make the wand work--a magical core, and magical abilities.
He didn't know what he would have been like if he'd never been attacked. It was possible that he had latent magical abilities that had never been able to develop properly. Or maybe he would have been what the wizards called a muggle, and he never would have known about the magical world at all. Maybe he would have been a writer, or a professor. Instead, he was left straddling the two worlds, belonging to neither; not muggle, not wizard... not even entirely human.
He watched her warily, but with fascination in his eyes. Most of the time he was content enough with his lot in life, but sometimes he felt just a flash of envy, wishing that he, too, could use magic. The painful transformation into wolf every month hardly counted as magic to him.
Matching her slow, cautious movements, he reached out to take the napkin from her, looking down at the address. He actually knew the store. It was the better bookstore in Hogsmeade, with more selection... but it was also more expensive. Usually Dylan bought his books from the second-hand bookseller on the other side of town. Sometimes he would even exchange books there, but usually, he didn't want to get rid of any of his books. So if he worked for the woman at the better bookstore, he might be able to get some of the harder-to-find books he'd been hoping to find.
Raising his eyes back to her face, he smiled shyly and nodded. "I'll be there," he said in his quiet voice. "You can call me Dylan. What should I call you?"
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Post by Iris Elliot on Jul 13, 2011 10:32:13 GMT -5
"Dylan. It's very nice to meet you." Iris said with a smile. She slid off the bar stool and straightened out her maroon colored robes. She placed a coin on the counter for her drink and waved at the bartender. She still wasn't feeling well. The past week she had been horribly sick and the coffee only managed to clear her head a little.
"I'm Iris. Iris Ellington. Again, I really appreciate this so much. I hate to run off, but the store should be opening in about five minutes. You can come over anytime you feel comfortable." She headed for the door, but she felt a little guilty for just rushing off like this. So she turned back around and smiled gently. "I'm sorry again for rushing off Dylan. I hope to see you soon." She waved a goodbye and with that, she left the pub and headed toward her bookstore.
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Post by Dylan Woods on Jul 13, 2011 18:13:54 GMT -5
"OK, Miss Iris," he said, feeling like he should be respectful. She was a lady, and he wanted to be on his best behavior with her. The opportunity to work at a bookstore... it was more than he possibly could have hoped for.
He watched her as she left, noting her scent as she passed him. She smelled clean and fresh, like the first flowers of spring. Lilacs, maybe?
When she was gone, he looked down at himself. He couldn't exactly describe himself as clean or neat in anyway. He'd bathed in the river, and he'd worn his best clothes, but even his best clothes were faded and torn. Was he really appropriate for working in a book store? He probably needed a hair cut and a shave. Maybe he should clean himself up a little more, if he was going to be working in the presence of such a pretty lady.
Sighing to himself he shuffled off and headed back to the cabin to see if he could improve his appearance a little more.
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