RP: Let's Make a Deal
Date: 3 July
Characters: Shelby Fawcett, Madam Rosmerta
Location: Three Broomsticks
Summary: Shelby, desperate for a way out of the house, makes a deal.
Completion: Complete
Madam Rosmerta eyed her across the table. Shelby fought the urge to fidget, meeting her gaze as best she could. She probably looked desperate, but she really was. Stuck waiting on her NEWTs, she'd had no choice but to move home, unable to afford anything until she had a full time job, which she couldn't get until she had her NEWT scores in hand.
Her mother was being her usual awful self, railroading anything Shelby might want to do, planning ridiculous teas, sending her on errands with exact change, like a house-elf it seemed, and she finally had snapped, telling her mother she wasn't slave labor, and as soon as she could move out, she would, so don't get used to bossing her around. Her mother had huffed and spluttered, and Shelby had stayed in her room, or in the treehouse, anywhere to stay away from her.
Her father was a different story. Since she'd started speaking up to both her parents, he was looking at her with something akin to respect, though he still deferred to her mother in most matters. Still, at least he wasn't just looking at her with disappointment all the time.
She realized Rosmerta had asked her a question and she snapped back into the moment. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" She asked.
Rosmerta gave her a skeptical look. "What sort of work are you proposing you do in exchange for one of my rooms? I don't have a need for a barmaid, and frankly, you look like you'd as soon tip a pint over someone's head as serve them with a smile."
Shelby bit back the retort that jumped to her lips, and forced a smile, however unnatural it felt, and judging from Rosie's expression, it looked. "I'm a fair cook, and can clean up most anything you might need me to take care of." She'd been her mother's drudge long enough, having to take care of most cleaning in lieu of a house elf when her mother made noises about being unwell, her delicate constitution all out of whack.
Rosmerta thought for a bit, then said finally, "You can help clear tables in the dining area, the upstairs rooms, and whatever dishes or help my cook needs. But if someone comes in wanting to let rooms, and yours is the only one left, you're out. I'm not taking a loss of profit, but as long as you're not in the way, we can make it work." She offered her hand, which Shelby took with alacrity. "You can start tonight. Wayne and Emma will show you what you need to know. When I'm not around, you answer to them. Bridget and Naomi as well when they're working."
Shelby nodded, too relieved at the opportunity to get out of the house to care. Rosmerta continued, "If you want food, you'll have to wait for what's left after morning, noon, and dinner rush, but you can see Wayne for that." She stood, and made her way back to the kitchen, where her office was. Shelby took a deep breath, and went home to pack some clothes. She'd have to see if she could sell some of her old uniform stuff to get some other robes, and some slacks, since her mother would never get her anything so unladylike.
Characters: Shelby Fawcett, Madam Rosmerta
Location: Three Broomsticks
Summary: Shelby, desperate for a way out of the house, makes a deal.
Completion: Complete
Madam Rosmerta eyed her across the table. Shelby fought the urge to fidget, meeting her gaze as best she could. She probably looked desperate, but she really was. Stuck waiting on her NEWTs, she'd had no choice but to move home, unable to afford anything until she had a full time job, which she couldn't get until she had her NEWT scores in hand.
Her mother was being her usual awful self, railroading anything Shelby might want to do, planning ridiculous teas, sending her on errands with exact change, like a house-elf it seemed, and she finally had snapped, telling her mother she wasn't slave labor, and as soon as she could move out, she would, so don't get used to bossing her around. Her mother had huffed and spluttered, and Shelby had stayed in her room, or in the treehouse, anywhere to stay away from her.
Her father was a different story. Since she'd started speaking up to both her parents, he was looking at her with something akin to respect, though he still deferred to her mother in most matters. Still, at least he wasn't just looking at her with disappointment all the time.
She realized Rosmerta had asked her a question and she snapped back into the moment. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" She asked.
Rosmerta gave her a skeptical look. "What sort of work are you proposing you do in exchange for one of my rooms? I don't have a need for a barmaid, and frankly, you look like you'd as soon tip a pint over someone's head as serve them with a smile."
Shelby bit back the retort that jumped to her lips, and forced a smile, however unnatural it felt, and judging from Rosie's expression, it looked. "I'm a fair cook, and can clean up most anything you might need me to take care of." She'd been her mother's drudge long enough, having to take care of most cleaning in lieu of a house elf when her mother made noises about being unwell, her delicate constitution all out of whack.
Rosmerta thought for a bit, then said finally, "You can help clear tables in the dining area, the upstairs rooms, and whatever dishes or help my cook needs. But if someone comes in wanting to let rooms, and yours is the only one left, you're out. I'm not taking a loss of profit, but as long as you're not in the way, we can make it work." She offered her hand, which Shelby took with alacrity. "You can start tonight. Wayne and Emma will show you what you need to know. When I'm not around, you answer to them. Bridget and Naomi as well when they're working."
Shelby nodded, too relieved at the opportunity to get out of the house to care. Rosmerta continued, "If you want food, you'll have to wait for what's left after morning, noon, and dinner rush, but you can see Wayne for that." She stood, and made her way back to the kitchen, where her office was. Shelby took a deep breath, and went home to pack some clothes. She'd have to see if she could sell some of her old uniform stuff to get some other robes, and some slacks, since her mother would never get her anything so unladylike.