RP: A Pint. Yes, Please
Date: 7 July 2005
Characters: Argus Filch, anyone
Location: Five Alarm
Status: Public
Summary: Filch arrives in town and heads straight for the pub.
Completion: Incomplete
( He needed a job and a place to stay, but first he needed a drink )
Characters: Argus Filch, anyone
Location: Five Alarm
Status: Public
Summary: Filch arrives in town and heads straight for the pub.
Completion: Incomplete
( He needed a job and a place to stay, but first he needed a drink )
In the last few days, Willis had done... What was it, exactly? Fuck if he could remember, least not all of it. He had these vague ideas, remembered that he'd started by going out and doing a bit of work, figured he'd earned himself a drink, and decided it was high time he spent some quality time elsewhere. Merlin knew it was warm enough not to bother with housing details, and he was aware of the fact that he'd spent the last few days catching sleep in a back way here and there, spending the nights doing... Here he grinned, more a smirk. Doing whatever the hell he'd felt like, really.
And that was the beauty of wandering wherever you pleased, it was. And why you made damned sure you did it off and away, rather than here again and again. Less notice, less mess. Who the hell needed that?
He'd brought himself back, eventually, only to find that on this particular morning--afternoon, evening, whatever the fuck it was--he'd bloody well gone and done it again. Not a decent bottle of alcohol in the house, and him standing there, cursing aloud, back still markedly sore. Only decent side to this was knowing where to go; easy enough to make a line for the Five Alarm.
He didn't pay a bit of mind as he walked up to the bar, grabbing a seat and ordering the desired whiskey. All right, sure, a quick glance for habit's sake, just to be sure, but nothing hideous to be seen. Certainly nothing to override the importance of alcohol.
Once he'd had a drink, though--and god, was that good, so have another--it seemed time enough to glance around, at least, particularly since he seemed to've sat next to someone. Not the first time it'd happen, and shame it wasn't anything he could have a nice, long look at. Not by a long shot. But hold off a moment... Willis looked at the man, kept looking. He couldn't have said that he'd seen this one anywhere, but there might've been something familiar there. Not the typical sort seen around here; something about him didn't give that damned irritating joyful, snot-nosed sort of feel.
Fuck. Some day, he might figure out early on why he thought he recognized these people. Till then, he'd just have to work it out, so he only watched, dead quiet for the moment.
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Once he had half a pint into him, Argus took a moment to look around. The look of this place was a bit classier than most of the pubs he'd frequented in Portsmouth, but a lot of the other people sitting round the bar looked like regulars, and he didn't feel out of place among them.
There was a bloke staring at him. Hardly even blinking. Argus didn't recognise him, but that didn't mean much. If he'd been to Hogwarts, he probably knew Filch, and if he hadn't been one of the ones who made mess in the corridors and ran around the castle at 2am, Filch was unlikely to remember him.
He took another drink and nodded at the bloke. "'Sit usually this quiet in here, or is everyone at Quidditch?"
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Ah, right. Man'd asked a question, and he'd not yet answered, was still staring. Willis smirked briefly at himself, or at the man for being here, or fuck knew what, and took another drink. Starting to feel a little more natural, good. "Don't know anything about this Quidditch business." Or had he heard something? No, no, not in his memory. Not that much was sticking there, just now.
Come to think on it, the pub did look a little empty for an evening like this. And he hadn't seen much of anyone on the street, or it seemed that he hadn't... Huh. "Might be it, though." He shrugged, as much an affirmation that, yes, it was usually busier, as he was likely to give. "'Spose they like their games, or what the hell have you."
He didn't go back to looking at the man straight off, catching sight of the whiskey bottle and his own hand, instead. Huh. Fancy that... His knuckles were bruised. Some bloke over in... Well, all right. Not an exact location, but he could place it some time early evening, maybe two days before, and the arse'd been in the alley. His alley at the time, damnit, and he 'd intended to fight for it. Had fought for it.
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The day's work of hauling various things from here to there had earned him enough change in his pocket for some dried meat and pears at the market, and he still had enough left over for a pint or two down at the 5A. "Ain't like a bloke cou' axe fer any more'an dat," he muttered to himself as he pocketed his change.
It was a short walk over to the Five Alarm, and a good thing it was, too. Stan was more than parched, he was downright thirsty. He was taken aback by a familiar face as he walked in.
"Oi, wotcher doing 'ere, Mistah Filch? Just stoppin' in town, or ye makin dis place yer 'ome, too?"
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That was it! Willis grinned, pointing suddenly at the first man, the older one. Yeah, all right, that all fit, now.
"So that's the way of it. Knew I'd seen you somewhere before, damn me, knew it." To emphasize the point, he took another drink, never taking his eyes off the man. The look was there, all right. Been years since he'd seen this one, but there was a connection somewhere, and it all fit right. Strange as hell to see this one here.
He'd near enough to forgotten the kid. That one had been an irritant, than a link, and then of no real matter; at least, not for the moment. He'd have to consider it again, but might be that Willis would feel a little more charitable, now that he had an answer. Sure, things were starting to fall into place.
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That voice was unforgettable, and the face as well, though the kid seemed older now. Never been to Hogwarts, that one, Filch remembered from a few chats on the bus.
"Well 'ello, Shunpike. Yeah, just arrived, but I think I'll stay. Y'alright, then?"
The other bloke was pointing, then, and grinning, looking a bit crazy, but hell, who was he to judge when he could hardly live without his cat? The bloke didn't look likely to hex him, anyway, or punch him in the mouth, so the pointing and grinning was all right by him.
Funny, this seemed fairly simple. No politics. Didn't have to worry about much.
He took another drink himself, addressing the other man. "You were at Hogwarts, then, were you? Can't say I remember, but that's prob'ly a good thing."
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And coming down to it, what'd it matter here? Willis found himself satisfied to have placed the face, and it didn't look like this one was about to start anything. Went along well with it, actually, and Willis figured he could approve of that. He hadn't found reason to feel particularly edgy around this man, and that subject bored him now, anyway. Might as well move on, or let it go, whatever worked soonest.
"Strange seeing you here, any rate."
He was becoming dimly aware of the fact that the kid was still there, very near.
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"Three pints," he ordered, and slapped his coinage and a couple of Muggle bills down on the bar. Stan began drinking the first one before the barkeep had even pulled the other two. Oh, it was good.
"Nuffin' loike a pint at the end of a day if ye've been workin'." He raised his glass to Filch's and took another drink, setting the other two pints aside for the heads to go down.
There was hardly anyone in the Five Alarm tonight, but it took Stan a few moments to realize the fact. When he finally did, it struck him that there was a Quidditch match going on, not that he'd go to watch it today, anyway. "Not goin' to the match are ya? Me, I can't be arsed to haul meself out there aftah workin' today."
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"Strange bein' here, I suppose. Didn't think I'd come back. Been working on the Portmouth docks since Hogwarts went, thought I'd stay there. But it just ain't the same, living with muggles." He shrugged and took another mouthful from his glass, watching the lad as he ordered three beers, getting his hopes up for a moment before he set them aside for himself. Snorted quietly, agreeing with the sentiment.
"Quidditch? Too many bloody kids." He paused a moment. "There much work here, then? I'll be looking for a job soon enough. Somewhere to stay, too."
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He wasn't in much of a mood to get into his circumstances. After all, most people had no idea what really had happened to him during those years.
Merlin, it was good to be in a Wizarding town again. The feel of the magic around him comforted him and he realized that no matter what happened to him in this world, it was still where he belonged. Even the beer tasted of magic. "It's all good, though. Well, now it is."
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Willis looked over, realized the kid'd come to stay, and smirked at the line of drinks he had going. At the same time, Willis heard the kid's words, and figured maybe it was worth a listen, after all. Might've even been a bit interested, if the kid really had been jailed for some reason or other. Didn't look the dangerous sort, but you could never really tell. Not always, anyway.
"Look here, it's a damned sight better being out around the muggles than locked up anywhere. Might not be the preferred way, but it's got its high points, here and there. Just got to know how to deal with 'em." Hell, that was half the fun.
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Filch knew Stan had stopped working on the bus getting toward the war. He seemed to remember something about Azkaban, but he wasn't really sure. Sounded like it, though.
The other bloke had been locked up too? Sounded like that and all. he wondered if maybe he shouldn't be talking to this one who'd been in Azkaban, too. He hadn't even said his name. But Filch figured it was any man's right to have a beer at a pub, and he didn't seem like he was out to make trouble. He supposed everyone'd had some loyalty or other during the war. Even the people fighting for the Order must have killed people.
He wasn't sure what 'deal with 'em' meant, but he wasn't about to disagree. Nor was he about to say that he'd rather liked a lot of them he'd been working with. That would mean explaining why, and he definitely wasn't about to do that.
"Reckon there are some good ones, here and there. Some of those I worked with were all right. Bunch of lazy buggers, though, a lot of 'em. Must beat being locked up, though, and a man needs a job. The ships are somethin'. Long way round to move stuff from place to place, but impressive."
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Till then, this situation had managed to catch his attention. Fair enough that a squib'd spent his time with muggles; seemed like the proper place for those ones. For the life of him, Willis couldn't've figured just why a squib had ever bothered passing itself off with wizards, but there it'd been. Good to hear the man'd had the sense to get away for a while.
He shrugged at the remark. "Sure, sure there are. And I've known muggles I'd rather be around than some of the wizards here, I'll tell yeh. Least some of the muggles know the way to have a time." Not that he'd want to be around those ones too often, oh no, but they were a likely sort of diversion.
"Haven't seen much of the docks, myself. Nothing I can remember, anyway." He laughed, poured himself some more of the whiskey.
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