Driven to Drink [Miri]

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Driven to Drink [Miri] Nov 15, 2012 11:48:08 GMT -8

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Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2012 11:48:08 GMT -8

Max hated living so close to everyone. That was one thing that he couldn’t stand about Hogsmeade Village. The houses and shops were tiny and they were all conveniently placed within three feet of the next building. It gave him hardly enough room to feel like he was putting some padding between himself and the rest of the world. He was, after all, a bloody werewolf and sometimes he enjoyed the thought of actually having privacy. As he moved across his shop, he turned the sign to signify that he was closed and then pulled the curtains closed in a huff. He didn’t want any more visitors today. Not after what had been happening after the past few days. Students...students were everywhere. They were invading the town. And, although they brought back the sense of liveliness that he had somewhat missed over the summer holiday, he couldn’t help but suddenly longing for the solitude that he had been experiences. He hadn’t had to talk to anyone for days on end...hadn’t had to explain himself. He stopped and leaned his back against the wall, his fingers around his neck, feeling the scar that stood out from his skin like a sore thumb. Something flashed in his memory and for a moment he felt like he was going to throw up. It was then that he decided it:

Maxim Petrov needed a drink.

He growled and pushed himself off the wall toward the keyring that was next to the desk. In a huff, he grabbed his keys and his jacket, threw open the door to Dervish and Banges and walked into the crisp early afternoon air. He slammed the door behind him, locked it, and began walking toward the more deserted side of town. If the very thought of interacting with people had driven him to drink this early, then her most certainly didn’t want to be around any more people than he had to be. He headed in the direction of The Hog’s Head, and made a b-line for the seat that was at the very edge of the bar.

‘Merlin,’ Max realized as he sat there, staring at the dusty bottles that lined the back of the bar. It had been ages since had had a proper drink. He tended to not let himself near alcohol because he believed that it brought out the worst in people. It was then that he realized that he didn’t care if it brought out the worst in him tonight. He just wanted to numb the pain and forget about everything that was plaguing him. As the bartender crossed toward him, Max eyed him skeptically. A scruffy looking gentleman with an eyepatch...‘How fitting,’ Max thought darkly as he stared at the man. Was he supposed to order his drink? ”Two shots of firewhiskey and...a mug of apple cider.” The man gave him an odd look. Who came into a bar and ordered alcohol and cider? However, the bartender obliged him and within a few moments, he had the three drinks sitting in front of him.

Leaning forward, he grabbed the first of the shots and threw it back. The second went down just as easily. Max slammed the glass down on the table and then looked up at the bartender, giving him a show of the number two on his fingers. Two more sounded bloody fantastic. While waiting for his drinks to be poured, Max took a large gulp of the hot cider that he had been brought. It tasted like musty apples and dusty books, but honestly, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything...which meant that his plan was working out just fine. The two shots were slid down the bar, his way and he picked one up and downed it, nodding his head in the direction of the barman. Only then did he realize he wasn’t alone in the bar; someone else was sitting a few seats down from him, ”One for the lady too.” He muttered to the man and nodded toward the girl’s form in the semi-darkness of the bar.

miranda

Driven to Drink [Miri] Nov 15, 2012 12:26:51 GMT -8

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Post by miranda on Nov 15, 2012 12:26:51 GMT -8

Miranda survived three days of teaching Muggle Studies thus far and she found that, as fun as it was, it was pretty exhausting. Some of the kids were eager to learn, others made their dislike for the lessons well-known. She didn’t let that get to her, though, and she wouldn’t. She was an ex-hit-witch and she made sure all of her classes knew that. They didn’t want to piss her off. For this half of the term she was concentrating on teaching the class about the muggle drama. She’d brought in innumerable plays that she expected them to read, and some of them she wanted the class to eventually perform, even if it was only a scene. She was done with classes for the day quite early, so she spent her afternoon curled up in sweatpants in the office attached to her classroom. It was always cold in her classroom and she hated it.

It was an interesting start to the school year to say the least. Something had possessed Dumbledore to hire Tom Riddle as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and thinking about that fact alone was enough to make her uncomfortable. She was just thankful she hadn’t had to deal with him much yet. The rumors of what he’d done… what his followers had done to her. It was enough to make her blood boil with anger, causing her yearning for revenge to fester deep within her soul. She’d wanted revenge on the men who tortured her, but revenge on the man who had ordered them to behave such animals, the man who had rallied them all together and gave them cause for existence… that would be just as sweet.

She smiled to herself at the thought before looking over the notes she’d chosen for the next day. They’d be entering to the world of Shakespeare and Romeo and Juliet. Oh that was sure to be a simultaneous riot and delight for her. Her students would hate every second of it, and she would get some kind of twisted joy out of watching them squirm. Tomorrow would be when she started having them read aloud, and they would groan and grumble and Miranda would just smile and demand that they quit their complaining. She signed up to teach them, not to babysit them, and as such she’d make sure that they would learn something whether they wanted to or not, even if it was a simple life lesson, on how to treat others, on how to speak more confidently. She wasn’t just about teaching them poetry and prose and plays. Still, listening to them complain about just about everything she had to say, and she’d grown quite tired of it. It had only been three days. Still, while the students were forced to stay within the confined walls of the castles, she wasn’t. So that afternoon after she got tired of writing notes for the next day’s lesson she decided she would go out and have some fun on her own.

She headed down to Hogsmeade without a second thought. She’d considered to go down to one of the more mainstream places that she used to go while she was in school, but she was a teacher now. She’d have to go to the last place the students would expect to find her, and that was the Hog’s Head. It was somewhat brisk night outside, which didn’t help the fact that she was cold, but she wasn’t worried. The mass amounts of alcohol she planned on consuming would definitely make that go away.

She walked into the Hogs Head and ordered a few liquid deaths. She’d grown to love them over the years. The minty aftertaste was something she always adored, but she was very careful not to have more than two at a single time; it was always the third one that knocked you unexpectedly on your ass. One minute your standing and three liquid deaths later you weren’t. She’d built up a tolerance for them, certainly, but she was still careful.

She was alone at the bar by herself for quite some time before another gentleman walked in, and he seemed to be having an even more hellish night than she was. Not that her day had been hellish in the slightest. She just wanted out of the castle, this man seemed like he wanted to be out bloody England altogether. She watched him from her peripheral vision as he ordered shots and an apple cider. She smirked to herself, an odd combination to be sure, but everyone had their quirks, she supposed. He quickly ordered two more shots and she realized that he really was intent on mentally leaving England. And then she heard him order two for her. She grinned to herself before picking up one of the cherries that were in the bowl she ordered. Cherries and alcohol were something that she’d gained quite a liking for over the years. The man brought her her shot from the mystery man and she looked him and smiled.

”To you,” she said before taking the shot with ease, and deciding in an instant that she wanted to know more about this mystery man. Usually her reserved nature would force her to stay away from everyone at the bar, not allowing anyone anywhere near her personal bubble. But the alcohol she’d consumed thus far (despite the tolerance she’d gained she’d always been kind of a lightweight) was making her do things she normally wouldn’t. She picked up her bowl of cherries and moved down a few seats to the stool next to where the man was sitting. She waved over the bartender and ordered another liquid death before popping another cherry in her mouth. “Thanks. I’m Miri, by the way. And you are?” She looked at him and offered a him a grin before she took her third liquid death, the minty aftertaste being more delicious than ever.

Last Edit: Nov 15, 2012 12:27:18 GMT -8 by miranda

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Driven to Drink [Miri] Nov 15, 2012 13:22:27 GMT -8

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Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2012 13:22:27 GMT -8

Max placed the lip of the shot glass between his own lips and leaned his head back, letting the liquid run like fire down his throat. He slammed the glass down for the third time. He was beyond done with everything...he was done with everyone. For once in his life, he just wanted to forget about everything. He wanted to forget about the girl that had come into his store and drudged up all the old feelings. He wanted to forget about the death of his parents. He wanted to forget that he was a werewolf. He wanted solely to believe that he was a normal guy, living a normal life, owning his own bookstore and writing a book...not because his lycanthropy haunted him in his dreams, but because he wanted to. Three shots later and he still wasn’t feeling any of it. It was still as if he was suffering from open wounds that wouldn’t heal themselves. It was then that he realized that the voice that he had heard earlier had been talking to him. It was the woman that he bought a drink for. He raised the last shot to her, ”Sure, sure.” He muttered, his voice dark and brooding. The last shot went down, and for once, he winced, feeling a little bit of the physical pain instead of just emotional. Perhaps he was indeed getting somewhere.

It was then that he realized the girl that had been sitting down the bar from him was moving closer. She came closer, ordered another drink, and then introduced herself as Miri. Max wanted to tell her to get lost and to run in the other direction, but the words still wouldn’t form quite right. He realized that she had asked for his name, but he wasn’t quite sure if he was willing to give it to her, ”I’m busy,” His voice was gruff, just like the way that he was feeling. He wasn’t sure what she wanted, or what she was doing coming over here. The whole point of his going to the Hog’s Head was to avoid people, not get up close and personal with the weird, cherry-eating blonde that had enough guts to approach the weird man in the corner. He reached forward and started rolling up the sleeves of his oxford button up. This night was just getting weirder and weirder and he wasn’t sure what to make of any of it.

Despite the fact that he had just said that he was busy, he decided that he should probably talk to someone, lest his inner emotions eat him alive like a hungry animal, ”Do you frequent the sketchiest bars too?” He asked, slightly rolling his eyes. His hands grasp the mug of cider that was in front of him, pulling it closer so that the smell could fill his nostrils. It was a little too full of cinnamon for his liking, but it would have to do right now. Apple cider was the only thing in the world that he drank with his alcohol. Leaning backwards he realized that they really were the only two people in the bars, so it wasn’t that uncommon that the pair of them just so happened to strike up conversation. He supposed that was why most people came to bars in the first place...to meet people they normally wouldn’t. And to get drunk, but that was besides the point.

He sat there for a moment, unsure of what was going on in his head before realizing that he wasn’t feeling as bad anymore. Maybe it was true, alcohol and random bar-mates really could ease all pains. He felt himself starting to roll his eyes again, but managed to stop himself. Instead, he pushed his hand through his hair and began introducing himself, ”Max, by the way. Or Maxim,” He breathed, averting his eyes for a moment and beginning to count the number of bottles that were on the counter. He wondered if he could drink them all. He picked up the bottle of firewhiskey that had been left near him and started pouring it into his apple cider, replacing what had had already drank with the new substance, ”I own Dervish and Banges over-” He waved his hand in the direction of his shop which was semi-east from their current location.

miranda

Driven to Drink [Miri] Nov 15, 2012 14:50:25 GMT -8

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Post by miranda on Nov 15, 2012 14:50:25 GMT -8

The man Miri decided she would so boldly introduce herself said he was busy after she introduced and it served as a somewhat sobering reminder as to why she didn't approach random people in a bar, let alone random men with gruff voices drinking apple cider. The buzz she'd been thoroughly enjoying was knocked away quite a bit as reality sneaked back up to the forefront of her mind. There was a reason she didn't let people in. She'd never tried to before, why would she start now? She could take a hint, though, and turned herself away from him and ordered another firewhiskey, determined to get her buzz back. She didn't need bitter men to make her even more bitter, and she took that as a lesson learned. Why try to let down your walls now, Miri? she thought to herself, sighing inwardly.

She ate a few more cherries and ordered a glass of firewhiskey, deciding if the only other patron of the Hog's Head didn't want to chat she might as well get really pissed and just forget he was there. The worst part was that he was pretty young, too. He looked like he might be able to pass for one of her students, but she knew that he wasn't. What could have happened that made him so bitter at such a young age? The question made her want to laugh aloud. As if she even had to ask with the kind of past she had. She'd buried her feelings about the loss of her parents and the loss of her job long ago, and she thought she'd moved past it, but apparently she was wrong because even the passing thought of either of those events was enough to send a nasty, angry feeling through Miri's bloodstream. But she couldn't be bitter with this guy just because she so bitterly wanted revenge for her family, for her job, for her entire bloody life that they took from her. So she stayed silent, continuously sipping on her firewhiskey, trying to pus her mind in a different direction. And then the bitter man... boy... whatever he was spoke again, asking if she liked hanging out in the sketchiest of bars. She smirked slightly as he rolled his eyes.

"No," she replied simply. If he wanted to play the angry game she could play it too. And she could probably play it better. She took another sip of her firewhiskey, waiting to see if he would speak again. He was busy after all, so why did he bother asking? What did he expect to gain? And then it was like suddenly something changed. He ran a hand through a hair and introduced himself. Unfortunately for him, Miri was done with her moment of weakness, and she'd not be foolish enough to make the same mistake twice. But she supposed he was trying to be friendly, so she could try again. Two wrongs didn't make a right, after all.

She listened... he owned Dervish and Banges? She raised a brow at him.

"You're a little young to own a shop, aren't you?" she asked, and while the question was demeaning she didn't mean it in an entirely bad way. It was somewhat impressive. But she moved on, deciding that if he told her where he worked she could at least do the same.

"I'm a new teacher at Hogwarts over-," she flung her hand in the direction of Hogwarts in the same fashion he had before allowing herself to smile a little. As much as she wanted to keep people out, she still couldn't help but laugh at herself a lot.

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Driven to Drink [Miri] Nov 15, 2012 16:46:38 GMT -8

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Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2012 16:46:38 GMT -8

”No.”

Max was already silently cursing himself for the rude greeting that he had opted for, but this woman couldn’t hold it against him forever, could she? After all, they were at a bar...and he was drinking. Reaching up, he ran his hand down his face in exasperation. He had hoped that this entire evening was going to be relaxing, but so far, at the rate that he was going, he was going to end up in even more of a bloody mess than he already was, ”So if you’re not a regular-” He was confused, his eyebrows pulled together in thought as he tried to work out the details. What was a girl like this doing in a bar like the Hog’s Head. Immediately his thoughts assumed that she was some sort of killer, but he shook his head off as being silly and in his state of inebriation, something that wasn’t worth a second thought.

He looked at her as she let a laugh escape and could only imagine what was going on in her head. She was a weird one...after all, who ate cherries with firewhiskey? It was odd to Maxim. Maybe she was insane. That could explain the oddities that she had already exhibited. Perhaps she had escaped from a mental institution or Azkaban and was now on the run from the most trained aurors and-

‘Get ahold of yourself, Max. That’s ridiculous,’ He was letting his buzzed imagination get the best of him and it was beginning to concoct things that were even more insane than when the normally though. He noted that next time he should stick to only two or three shots, instead of the apparent six and counting that he was at right now...not to mention the mug full of spiked cider that now sat in front of him.

After explaining that he owned a book store, he was surprised at the way that she looked at him. It was almost as if she was questioning him. He wasn’t sure what to say, how to defend himself and he was sure that he looked like a bumbling idiot sitting there staring at her blankly. He was perhaps just refueling the idea that he was too young to own anything himself. But, sure enough, using the money that he had received from selling his parents’ house and all their assets had left him with a hefty sum of money. About enough to buy the old bookstore and revamp it in his free time. He had been keeping it up for almost three years now. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the most profitable venture, but it paid the bills and gave him somewhere to live during the year. Plus, shelving books and reading them gave him a chance to keep his mind off of his life. Not to mention, the back room was the perfect environment to keep up the work that he had started on his book, ”Had to grow up fast.” He mumbled into his mug and then took a swig of the firewhiskey-cider. It, as expected, was strong and hit the spot that he needed it to.

”It’s not like it’s illegal,” Max continued, furrowing his brow slightly as he continued down his little paved speech, ”I’m old enough to own a business. I have the proper paperwork, would you like to see?” If he had been in his right state of mind, Max probably would have been a little pissed that she was questioning him, but currently, he found it to be rather amusing. In fact, he was almost excited by the idea that someone thought he was too young to own things for himself. She obviously had no idea who she was dealing with...and it appeared that he didn’t either.

The word professor was not what he had expected her to say. Barmaid, yes. Ministry Official, maybe. But Professor? That one definitely took the cake for weirdest position for a woman as good looking as her to have, ”Aren’t you a little young to be a professor?” He asked, his voice saying the words before his brain registered what he was saying. ‘Damn, Max,’ he thought with a slight frown, ‘You’ve got quite the mouth on you with a little whiskey in your system...’ Max should have guessed that this was going to happen. He knew that his body - and personality - didn’t take to alcohol very well, no matter how many times he drank. He shook his head, ”What in Merlin’s name do you teach?” He asked, unsure of how he meant his question to come across. He didn't want to offend her, or cause any trouble, he was just curious, however, his voice made it seem like he was condescending her, perhaps in the way that she had just done to him.

miranda

Driven to Drink [Miri] Nov 15, 2012 19:03:25 GMT -8

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Post by miranda on Nov 15, 2012 19:03:25 GMT -8

Miri could tell that the fact that she wasn’t a regular in the bar was confusing to him. She didn’t quite see what the big deal was. It was just a bar after all, it wasn’t like you needed to be a certain sort of person to go into a bar like the Hogs Head, but she wasn’t about to launch into some kind of speech about how she’s a teacher and can’t be seen drinking by students because it’s against her moral code to be caught doing anything un-teacherly –like by her students. But, hey, she liked to live on the edge. So she didn’t go into muggle London like she so easily could have, and she frequently danced around her office while cleaning, which was very much not very adult or teacher-like, but that didn’t stop her. She’d nearly been killed once, she was allowed to have a good time as she pleased, in her mind.

When he mentioned that he had to grow up fast Miri had all to do not to laugh aloud. Not because it was funny, but because she knew the feeling of having to grow up fast all too well. At the age of 13 she did most things that grown woman still didn’t do if they could avoid it. She worked her ass off to get her where she was today, and if there was one thing she knew it was that growing up fast could turn you into an old soul. “I know the feeling,” she said, nodding in his direction. He might not think that she meant it, or that it was one of those things that people just say. Like when people apologized after she lost her parents. She never understood why people apologized, it wasn’t like they were the ones who set her house ablaze. But she wasn’t just saying it like a lot of people probably did. She truly understood what it felt like to have your world shatter and be left to pick up the pieces, be left without a part of yourself, be left without a home. Sometimes it was so hard to push herself to even get up in the morning. What was the point? But she did it for herself, and she did it for Owen. She couldn’t just disappear on him no matter how badly sadness might have made her want to.

And then he said it wasn’t illegal and that he was old enough to own his own business. Miri felt immediately foolish. “Max, I hadn’t meant to offend,” she blurted out apologetically before he said asked if he wanted to see the paperwork. What a bloody mess she’d made. Sometimes she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut, could she? She sighed inwardly, scolding herself for being so rudely inquisitive. But then Max seemed to throw it right back at her by insinuating that she was a little young to be a professor. She smirked at him, so maybe she shouldn’t have felt so inwardly bad in the first place.

”It’s not like it’s illegal,” Max continued, furrowing his brow slightly as he continued down his little paved speech, ”I’m old enough to own a business. I have the proper paperwork, would you like to see?” If he had been in his right state of mind, Max probably would have been a little pissed that she was questioning him, but currently, he found it to be rather amusing. In fact, he was almost excited by the idea that someone thought he was too young to own things for himself. She obviously had no idea who she was dealing with...and it appeared that he didn’t either. He asked what she could possibly teach and she let out a soft chuckle.

“I’m 24, I’ll have you know. And I wouldn’t even be a teacher if I hadn’t been injured during my job as a hit-witch,” she said matter-of-factly before she took another sip of her drink of firewhiskey. If he could be defensive about his choices than she could be defensive about hers as well. “I teach muggle studies,” she said, wondering what side of the spectrum this man lied on as far as blood purity went. Perhaps she should have lied and said she taught potions or charms or something, something that wasn’t so… easily despised in this day and age. But then she realized just how foolish lying would have been. Lying would have made her ashamed, and that was one thing she was mostly certainly not. She adored her muggle heritage and she would be damned if someone tried to take that pride away.

“Why a book shop?” she asked, this time genuinely curious. Books had always thought books were fascinating, and when she was younger she adored getting lost with fictional characters as her best friends. Still, she couldn’t really picture owning a book store. She would feel too cooped up, too lonely, too isolated. She needed a job where she could be around people, where she could help people. Maybe Maxim wanted to be lonely, though. She remembered what he’d said about his past and she wondered what had happened to him as a child, or even a teenager. Had it been as bad as what happened to her or worse?

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Driven to Drink [Miri] Nov 16, 2012 10:56:27 GMT -8

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Post by Deleted on Nov 16, 2012 10:56:27 GMT -8

Max was attempting to stare into his mug, looking for some sign that there was going to be a magical influx of cider within it, but so far, he was having no luck. It was then that Miri’s voice drug him back to reality. He looked up and stared at her, his eyes searching her face. Did she really know what it was like to have to grow up immediately? Did she know the crisis that he had been through? The kind of mental trauma that had been haunting the very breaths that he took every day? He more that he looked at her, the more that he began to wonder. Maybe she was in a similar place in her life...sure, he couldn’t imagine that she had lost her family the way that he had lost his but maybe she had lost something. He paused for a moment, watching the way that she thought...her mind seemed to be a million miles away and for a moment, Max realized that was what he must have looked like to everyone else. He must have worn the same blank, thoughtful expression on his face when he became too absorbed. He shook his head and looked away from her, eyeing the cup of cider yet again, ”I would ask what happened, but I don’t think either of us particularly want to spill our guts, eh?” He said with a slight sigh. He felt the corners of his lips turning upwards in the beginnings of a smile; maybe they had gotten off on the wrong foot, but it looked as if things were getting better for them now, ”So we’ll just order another round-” He gave the bartender a nod, ”And call it a day.” He looked over at Miri and offered her his lame attempt at a smile, hoping that it would at least convince her that he was not going to be a complete arse anymore.

He laughed, a loud booming laugh, one that he hadn’t heard come out of his mouth in a long time, ”Trust me, I’m far from offended,” He said and shook his head. He raised his glass to her and then took another large gulp. He wasn’t sure why he was okay with her verbally torturing him tonight, but he assumed that it had something to do with the large amount of alcohol that he had floating around his system this evening; it was beginning to make him open up more than he normally did, and he had to say, it was getting his mind off of the whole reason that he had come in here. He supposed that he had Miri to thank for that. Max never believed much in fate, especially after what happened to him, but he was beginning to think that if he ventured out more like he had been, there was a viable possibility that he would make friends and...he struggled with thinking it, but he imagined that it would be possible for him to eventually move on and get on with his life. Maybe.

Max was in the middle of a sip when she informed him that she had been a hit witch. He spit the gulp that he had in his mouth back into the cup and looked up at her, his eyebrows pulled together in a confused expression, ”Did you honestly just make up the position of hit-witch?” He asked as he felt a smirk pull the side of his mouth up in a smile. He knew that there was such thing in the British Ministry of Magic, but never in Russia. They weren’t organized enough for that. He was about to ask about her injuries when he remembered the ‘growing up too fast’ conversation and decided against it. If she wanted to talk about it, she would...eventually. That was the way that he saw it. She was a lot like him, ”Muggle studies, hmmm?” Max wasn’t sure that Durmstrang even had a Muggle Studies class; everyone there was so elitist it was a wonder that they didn’t hang muggles from the ceiling and torture them during breakfast, ”Does that mean you’re a muggle-born? Or do you just enjoy them?” He had to say that he had never minded muggles. There were interesting creatures; probably worth studying. He had read a few of their books and had been impressed, so they at least had good literary leaders.

”Why not a bookshop?” Max countered as soon as she spoke and shrugged his shoulders. He tried to remember back to three years ago when he had actually bought the shop from the old man Dervish who had owned it previously to him. It had been one of the happiest days of his life, ”I got here from Russia and it just happened to be for sale. Had a bedroom in the back too. Didn’t think I could go wrong.” That was only part of the truth and Max knew it. He had bought the shop because he loved to write and wanted a place to become inspired...that, and he wanted to hide away from the world and hiding behind bookshelves was as good a place as any, ”If I told you I was a writer, would you laugh?” Max asked, examining the mug in his hands. He turned it over a few times, looking at the ceramic and wondering what Miri would think of his aspirations. They had, after all, already had the ‘you’re too young’ talk.

miranda

Driven to Drink [Miri] Nov 28, 2012 14:28:26 GMT -8

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Post by miranda on Nov 28, 2012 14:28:26 GMT -8

Max said that he was sure neither of them wanted to talk about what it felt like to grow up fast, and Miri grinned at him as he ordered another around. It was true. Talking about her past was one of the last thing Miranda Miller would ever want to do. Her past was her business and no one else's, and she couldn't help but feel slightly grateful that Max felt the same. And to be honest, another drink sounded more than splendid. "I like your thinking, Max," she said with a smile as the bartender did just as Max requested. When he let out a laugh and said that he wasn't offended Miri felt a wave of relief wash over her. She'd never been particularly good with words, and she absolutely hated offending people. It was the hufflepuff in her, she supposed, it always caused her to be a bit of a worry wort.

His reaction to her being a hit-witch was.... far from what was expected, and the fact that he asked her if she made it up was so shocking it actually made her laugh. Why would she make it up?! She furrowed a brow in his direction, confused. Most people would be impressed, or at the very least intrigued, but he... he thought she made it up? "No I didn't make it up," she said, still laughing. She couldn't believe he'd ask her such a thing. Seriously... "It's actually a really good position," she said before taking another sip of her drink. She knew he sounded different, maybe they didn't have that kind of position wherever he was from.

When he asked about her blood status part of her became very inwardly defensive, though she said nothing. She'd become quite used to being judged for her blood status over the years, and though he clearly wasn't from around here, maybe they didn't like muggles and muggleborns where he was from, too. Muggle hate felt like it was such a common thing. At the thought her stomach did a turn and she realized she still hadn't answered him.

"I'm a muggleborn, yes," she said, giving him the proudest smile she could muster when she felt slightly self-conscious about admitting it. She knew she should be proud of her blood status in that moment, but she just couldn't find it in her. Still, she left her answer alone before turning the question back on him. "What about you? What's your blood status?"

Truthfully it didn't matter to her what his blood status was, but she figured it was just one of those things you asked. Everything relied on blood status now a days, or at least that's what it felt like. But, then again, maybe she wasn't looking at things through a big enough lens. It was easy to get caught up in what everyone else thought was important, and forget what was important to you.

He countered her bookshop question with a question of his own and she grinned. She supposed why not a bookshop would make enough sense. There wasn't anything wrong with owning a bookshop, that was for certain. And when he said he was a writer she didn't laugh, but she did smile.

"Why on earth would I laugh?" she asked, taking another sip of her drink. "That's actually kind of fascinating. What kinds of things have you written?" [/black] She wasn't sure where this inner curiosity was coming from this evening (though she certainly had an idea.... dam firewhiskey), but she let the question hang in the air. She wondered if he would answer her gruff and angry like he had when she first approached, or if he would answer her... less angrily....

(ooc;; sorry if this is crap. My exhaustion because of this cold is catching up with me.)

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Driven to Drink [Miri] Nov 28, 2012 21:06:33 GMT -8

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Post by Deleted on Nov 28, 2012 21:06:33 GMT -8

Miri seemed to get a little defensive when Max questioned the reliability of her position as a hit-witch, something that Max found very funny at the moment. He tried to hide his smile behind his mug of cider, but he was pretty sure that if she didn’t actually see him laughing, then she would hear it and the outcome would be the same. It was then that she started laughing too and he was relieved; at least she thought that the reaction and situation was funny as well. He was able to draw the mug away from his lips, allowing himself some room to breath, ”I just-” He tried to speak but found himself catching more of the infectious laughter that Miri was giving off, ”It just seems like such a silly position. What do you do? Were you a spy?” Max managed to say, trying to lower his voice, but finding that he was still talking rather loudly, ”Is that why it’s such a good position? Because you’re a spy?” Max realized then that he was making little sense. He was already letting his alcohol get to him, something that he had tried to promise himself not to do...and yet here he was...drinking the night away with a woman that he had only just met. He was in for a very interesting evening, that was for sure.

She seemed to be proud of her status as a muggleborn and that was something that Max could respect. He didn’t know a lot of muggleborns - many of the wizards at Durmstrang were pureblood or half-blood - so she was an interesting specimen. He supposed that was why she had chosen to teach muggle-studies. She probably knew more about the culture than anyone, ”Pureblood, actually,” He said and shrugged his shoulders, trying not to make a big deal out of the whole thing. He wasn’t one for elitism, especially after he had seen what pureblood wizards could do when they were vengeful. Max was venturing down a thought-path that would lead him into dangerous territory, so he stopped immediately. He put his mug to his lips, took a sip and then put it back down, making sure to keep his eyes trained carefully in front of him.

‘But my blood is tained-’ His mind tried to interject onto the end of his sentence, but Max managed to hold it in. He didn’t want Miri or anyone else knowing about his condition....His lycanthropy secret getting out was his biggest fear. He didn’t want anyone to know so that they wouldn’t try and help him. He knew that people who tried to help usually got caught in the crossfire and he couldn’t stand the thought of physically hurting anyone...except for maybe the person that had done this to him.

”A lot of people laugh, after all I do look a little young.” Max said and shrugged his shoulders, bringing up their previous conversation. But seeing Miranda smiling at him, he wondered if it was really all that silly to begin with. A lot of people in the world wanted to be writers and Max believed that he could do it, ”I haven’t written anything to be published yet.” Max answered as he looked up from the mug and offered Miri and smile of sorts, ”But I’m currently working on a book about lycanthropy. More of a personal account; not the rubbish that’s been published lately. Most people think that they’re all monsters-” He cut himself off, furrowing his brow. This wasn’t a conversation to be had in public, that was for sure. There was a very real possibility that someone would hear them and he couldn’t have that, ”Do you write anything?” He questioned back, trying to get a feel for her. What were her thoughts on him? What were her thoughts in general?