RP: One Aloof Stands Sentinel
Date: Sunday, 19 May 1999 | Early Evening
Characters: Rosmerta, anyone
Location: Three B's
Status: Public
Summary: Open late and free drinks for all is the only way Rosie knows how to keep the memories at bay..
Completion: INComplete
Memory was a tricky thing. Sort of like an ocean. The good memories, well, they sank a bit like pebbles, ripples not lasting long enough. The bad ones, well, that's like a sponge, or cork; so often it stayed on the surface long past when you wanted it gone.
Rosie hadn't slept well, not since Thursday night when she realized that it was approaching. As far as anniversaries went, she generally paid them no mind, keeping more to the general time frame. She knew Benjy'd died in September, and she always raised a glass in his memory then. She had a calendar of birthdays, charmed to remind her, and she had a list of other dates to remember folks and their lives by. But this was one date she couldn't forget, not yet. A year out was healing enough, but it only did so much for the memories. Facing down a rather obnoxious group of Death Eaters across the bar. Hearing explosions from the castle as war raged about, and the town was flooded with schoolchildren. Feeling hot tears course down her face as the WWN announced the outcome. Seeing wave after wave of families reunited, some on their relief at survival, but just as many in their grief.
It was a special group of kids, now young adults, that had come through it all. She saw it in their faces, in their eyes when taken by drink. That there was something they drank to forget, and something she would never wish on another human being. So she carried on, cheerful, flirting, seeking to raise spirits and chase away demons, if only for the glass, or the evening. She couldn't carry anyone's burden, and wouldn't demean what had happened to them all by trying to, but she could give the only comfort she knew how to give. From a bottle
So she posted signs that the bar would be open late that Sunday evening, and she offered up free drinks for everyone in the place. She'd eat the cost of remembering later, when the night slowed to a stop and she faced her own demons of the past, both near and far. For now, she'd serve and smile, and sashay and do her best.
"Hello, what can I get you love? Drink's on the house."
Characters: Rosmerta, anyone
Location: Three B's
Status: Public
Summary: Open late and free drinks for all is the only way Rosie knows how to keep the memories at bay..
Completion: INComplete
Memory was a tricky thing. Sort of like an ocean. The good memories, well, they sank a bit like pebbles, ripples not lasting long enough. The bad ones, well, that's like a sponge, or cork; so often it stayed on the surface long past when you wanted it gone.
Rosie hadn't slept well, not since Thursday night when she realized that it was approaching. As far as anniversaries went, she generally paid them no mind, keeping more to the general time frame. She knew Benjy'd died in September, and she always raised a glass in his memory then. She had a calendar of birthdays, charmed to remind her, and she had a list of other dates to remember folks and their lives by. But this was one date she couldn't forget, not yet. A year out was healing enough, but it only did so much for the memories. Facing down a rather obnoxious group of Death Eaters across the bar. Hearing explosions from the castle as war raged about, and the town was flooded with schoolchildren. Feeling hot tears course down her face as the WWN announced the outcome. Seeing wave after wave of families reunited, some on their relief at survival, but just as many in their grief.
It was a special group of kids, now young adults, that had come through it all. She saw it in their faces, in their eyes when taken by drink. That there was something they drank to forget, and something she would never wish on another human being. So she carried on, cheerful, flirting, seeking to raise spirits and chase away demons, if only for the glass, or the evening. She couldn't carry anyone's burden, and wouldn't demean what had happened to them all by trying to, but she could give the only comfort she knew how to give. From a bottle
So she posted signs that the bar would be open late that Sunday evening, and she offered up free drinks for everyone in the place. She'd eat the cost of remembering later, when the night slowed to a stop and she faced her own demons of the past, both near and far. For now, she'd serve and smile, and sashay and do her best.
"Hello, what can I get you love? Drink's on the house."