Who: Everyone!
Where: Hogsmeade Village
When: Saturday, December 17th 11:00am - 5:30pm
What: Christmas shopping and tomfollery all around.
Rating: Varying
Warning: None.
By the time the school clock strikes ten the students and professors who lingered for the holidays are already beginning to fill the halls all of them making their way towards the front
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A shame. He was rather fascinated by the strange looking animals, though initially confused as to why no one else seemed to see them, though that part was briefly explained to him. He'll just have to sneak out later and find the stables.
In the meantime, he goes searching for another bony, black haired animal that it probably wasn't safe to pet though Suzaku will likely tempt fate anyway. Checking Gladrags first and coming up empty, he makes his way towards the bookstore next, eventually managing to spot that familiar black hair and making his way over.]
Hey, I'm surprised you haven't blown most of your money on clothes already.
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[There weren't too many other reason to be hanging out in the magical travel section, after all.]
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"Would you have kvass, then?" His eyes rise again to Madam Rosmerta, a hopeful smile vanishing as she shakes her head. "No?"
In the end, he orders a Butterbeer instead, able to accept that a drink from home wouldn't be common around here. As warm and comforting as his first mug is, after a second he begins to question the use of "beer" in its name. Hardly alcoholic... this year will be difficult if he finds nothing stronger.
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Eventually he meanders into The Three Broomsticks, easily picking Latvia's figure at the bar out from the rest, and settles next to him. He finds it a lot easier to get a hold of some vodka, frowning a bit because the stuff from his land is obviously better than the stuff they have here but he's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"What are you drinking, Latvia?" It's certainly nothing he's seen before.
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But Russia's asked him something, and he's only obligated to answer, "B-Butterbeer, she calls it. It's... alright."
His attention isn't on it at all, however, and he stares at Russia's drink with a certain longing he can't begin to hide.
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There's a little knowing look, because it's fairly obvious that Latvia looks younger than drinking age and she wouldn't have given him any. Russia chuckles when he sees that Latvia hasn't taken his eyes off of the vodka in front of him and, taking pity on the poor nation, he waits for the barmaid to walk off before leaning over and spiking his butterbeer with practiced ease.
"It is better now, I suspect?"
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Quiet as ever, Red doesn't announce himself or the yellow creature in his hood (his head taken care of with his cap). Instead he goes right to his question, standing some feet away with hands hooked behind his back as if observing a painting.]
What do you see...?
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Is that... a Pikachu...? [A unicorn was one thing - that sort of creature might be expected to actually exist somewhere - but a Pokemon (if that really is a Pikachu) is entirely different. Or maybe, he supposes after a moment as the shock slowly eases, it isn't really. It's just that Pokemon are a much more recent story, and maybe in a thousand years, people back home will think of them as old myths.
Still.]
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Something's really there?
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Once he's done shopping, he walks around exploring and asking locals questions. Some answers, others ignore him. But he doesn't give up and continue doing so, hoping to gain as much information as he can.]
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Hey Tieria!
[That's right, Tieria, it's your favoritest person Evar come to bother you.]
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Suzaku. [He looks up from the copy of broom catalogue he's browsing.] Getting your broom for quidditch?
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What about you? [Yes, Suzaku is eying your broom catalog] I thought you weren't going to try out for Quidditch.
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Simple, composed as ever. Even when exploring a totally awesome magic alley.
Shall you approach this flighty dame?]
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Russia had spotted Rose earlier as she wandered through the village with the then half-full bag, and he's surprised to see her again with it containing even more items. There's a little uneven quality to her gait and for a moment he wonders if it's simply the large bag she's carrying. He approaches and offers a hand, because even though he can be a jerk he's still capable of being a gentleman at times.]
Would you like some help?
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