{i've been trying to do it right}

[Kate Snow]

Even though the weekend was over, and visits to Rue de Paradis were only permitted during weekends and breaks, she still managed to sneak out through the portkey and arrive with little vertigo. Traveling through portkey never fails to make Kate feel a little queasy afterwards. But after landing on her two feet and a few deep breathes later, she could see straight and walk without feeling faint. If only there was an easier way to travel, but floo powder would leave residue on her clothes and hair much to her dismay. And it was too cold to travel on broom since it was freezing outside. So this had to do and she needed to get more used to it. But of course Kate traveled to Rue de Paradis on a few occasions. This time she felt like shopping and ending the rest of the evening at The Grub Pub.

A girl simply cannot have enough clothes to add to her wardrobe. Even if she had recently returned from her home in Paris, Kate couldn't keep away from Rose Formals and their apparel. She splurged a little bit on new winter boots, a coat, and several dresses. She could have left the shop in a new outfit, but what she wore already is new and she couldn't be bothered with changing. Kate left Rose Formals with bags hanging on both arms and she headed toward the end of the street where The Grub Pub was. Her emerald eyes briefly looked at The Darkest Shop and a little smirk crept across her lips. She wondered where he could be or what he was doing. There never was a spoken relationship between the two, but there certainly was something...indescribable. She couldn't really put a label on it, but he was someone to her that she thought of every now and then.

Kate should have visited him more often or sent word, but that would be too bothersome. It was casual and well...she likes the chase that goes both ways. But she went on her way and soon entered through the front door of The Grub Pub. It never changes. The faces. The smell. The appearance inside. It was all the same and it felt almost like coming home. Of course she's been there for so long that it was the only place besides the school that she felt at ease to kick back with a drink and meal and enjoy one's company. However, this evening she was alone and no one looked familiar enough for her to join at their table and conversation. So she took a booth of her own, setting aside her bags and ordering a butterbeer to warm her bones.

tagged: jean-pierre brouillard

[BROUILLARD,jp]

DEMONS
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CREATURES THAT ROAM AROUND ME SINCE THE DAY I WAS BORN

Pierre’s traversing through the streets didn’t prove much consolation to his already torn self. By the time the man was heading towards his ragged store, it made him rethink of some remodelling to the place and perhaps some revamping on certain aspects, as such the menu, the options and whatever other concept could come in handy for him, as anything within those walls was in a dire need of redecoration and retouching. Becoming ostracised, the man hadn’t exactly enjoyed the joys of being all by himself – barring some fleeting glances and some casual encounters with damsels, which could only fuel his lust more than due. It was time to reorder his priorities and to start some changes in his life, for the most daring those could be. In the sense of an unhinged hybrid, the werewolf was sensing the effects of wolfsbane, producing a palpitating shudder inside his rib cage.

The man had spent the whole afternoon hopping from store to store, in advance to seeking for those elements which could bring out the goodness of his properties. From luminary to apparels, the man was brainstorming within that witty head of his, calculating the exact amount of light, ornaments and such that could retrieve livelihood to the place. He was more than fortunate that his finances didn’t rest on the shop, since the last costumer he could think of had been a couple of days ago, with not much storage taken in its trip. A handful of rare dark books weren’t something appalling and that wouldn’t pay for the rent alone. Pierre had luck in his side by depending on a wealthy business instead, which granted him the commodities and the posh life he aimed for. Nonetheless, the Darkest Shop represented something sacred to him, and it was such a waste to see it crumble down to its extermination.

Examining through his thoughts, the bloke reassured himself he was edging towards nostalgia, instead of his nonchalant self which was bound to be himself most of the time. Staring at nowhere, his footsteps led him aimlessly to the Grup Pub, a place he hadn’t exactly visited ever since he had arrived at Rue de Paradis, his grieving needed dwindling and he wouldn’t succeed if he spent the rest of the day lamenting and whining about it all along.

Brouillard scanned the entrance before having small peeks at the inside. The site seemed cosy from the outtakes, and the abundant quantity of people there could tell him of a grand and popular point of reunion, thusly, this should be a good nook to pour his worries away. Nodding to himself, inconspicuously, the man stepped in, opening the door and making the bell rang for whenever a new costumer ingresses. He shucked his coat and left it aside, perched it on the wall by the entrance before oozing through the booths, finding the most befitting to his needs. It wasn’t until he roved his sight through the place to regard Kate’s presence that he smirked briefly, watching her seated with something that appeared to be piles of bags, crammed with garments.

“Past, hello and cryptic phrases… we haven’t conversed much” it just escaped his lips, reaching for her exact location as he spoke, getting closer with each word. “If we have met at such profound way… I believe we could bare a little chatter, don’t you?” his husky voice resounding barely just for her to hearken at, always tinged with that seducing hint that Pierre’s French accent couldn’t detach from him.