RP: Green River
Date: 12 January 2005
Characters: Cedric
Location: the stream behind the book shop
Summary: Cedric is dog tired and dreams of Southern Comfort
Completion: Complete
The caterers had completely fucked up the order, so a conference with 250 participants had food for 70. Cedric had spent all evening fighting with Bradeis Catering, then trying to supplement because the cooks had gone home. Brandeis could provide extra tea and juice and wine, but they couldn't provide extra food. And for the first time since he'd begun working for the museum, Cedric had been forced to use magic. Obviously not where anybody else could see, but he'd managed to find a market and purchase the raw foodstuffs, then had returned to his office where he'd used Scourgify and Slicing spells on the fruit and cheese and vegetables to produce additional finger foods.
And bloody blast catering. This was the second time Brandeis had given him problems and 'refund' or not, he'd be calling around to price other catering businesses in Exeter come Monday morning. There was little that Cedric hated more than being made to look like an incompetent fool.
For now, the Meet-and-Greet wine-and-cheese party for Devon-area business-school professors was over, and with no major disasters beyond catering. Cedric was home at 10:30, utterly exhausted but still wired and uptight. It had been a long week, and it wasn't over. There was another day-long conference tomorrow that promised to be just as tedious.
It might have been all right if he'd enjoyed this sort of thing, but he didn't, really. He was good at it; honesty compelled him to realize as much. But PR wasn't his life's ambition and he didn't spot an end in sight. He needed the money, for both his own house and the museum, but these days, more of it seemed to go to the museum. It was easier to borrow from Peter to pay Paul when Paul had immediate bills due. As a result, savings for his house kept getting depleted. It was just the way of things.
It was a cold evening, temperatures hovering around freezing or a bit below, when he apparated into his new house, which was equally dark and cold. He took care of that with a fire in the hearth, but felt ... closed in, not cozy. As mad as it was, he wanted to be out under the stars where he felt unfettered. So changing into sweat clothes and gathering a warm blanket and his cloak -- and his iPod -- he went for a walk down to the little river running along the back of the Trio's property. Spreading the blanket on the ground, he cast a vigorous Warming spell, then settled down with the cloak over him and his hands behind his head so he could look up at the stars, earbuds in and CCR on, his foot keeping idle time to the blues, his mind thinking about his one visit to New Orleans, magnolia tress and Spanish moss and mosquitoes, beignets for breakfast and afternoon rain and muggy June heat melting the sky in the evening like orange marmalade.
Well, take me back down where cool water flows, yeah.
Let me remember things I love,
Stoppin' at the log where catfish bite,
Walkin' along the river road at night,
Barefoot girls dancin' in the moonlight.
I can hear the bullfrog callin' me.
Wonder if my ropes still hangin' to the tree.
Love to kick my feet way down the shallow water.
Shoefly, dragonfly, get back to your mother.
Pick up a flat rock, skip it across green river ...
Characters: Cedric
Location: the stream behind the book shop
Summary: Cedric is dog tired and dreams of Southern Comfort
Completion: Complete
The caterers had completely fucked up the order, so a conference with 250 participants had food for 70. Cedric had spent all evening fighting with Bradeis Catering, then trying to supplement because the cooks had gone home. Brandeis could provide extra tea and juice and wine, but they couldn't provide extra food. And for the first time since he'd begun working for the museum, Cedric had been forced to use magic. Obviously not where anybody else could see, but he'd managed to find a market and purchase the raw foodstuffs, then had returned to his office where he'd used Scourgify and Slicing spells on the fruit and cheese and vegetables to produce additional finger foods.
And bloody blast catering. This was the second time Brandeis had given him problems and 'refund' or not, he'd be calling around to price other catering businesses in Exeter come Monday morning. There was little that Cedric hated more than being made to look like an incompetent fool.
For now, the Meet-and-Greet wine-and-cheese party for Devon-area business-school professors was over, and with no major disasters beyond catering. Cedric was home at 10:30, utterly exhausted but still wired and uptight. It had been a long week, and it wasn't over. There was another day-long conference tomorrow that promised to be just as tedious.
It might have been all right if he'd enjoyed this sort of thing, but he didn't, really. He was good at it; honesty compelled him to realize as much. But PR wasn't his life's ambition and he didn't spot an end in sight. He needed the money, for both his own house and the museum, but these days, more of it seemed to go to the museum. It was easier to borrow from Peter to pay Paul when Paul had immediate bills due. As a result, savings for his house kept getting depleted. It was just the way of things.
It was a cold evening, temperatures hovering around freezing or a bit below, when he apparated into his new house, which was equally dark and cold. He took care of that with a fire in the hearth, but felt ... closed in, not cozy. As mad as it was, he wanted to be out under the stars where he felt unfettered. So changing into sweat clothes and gathering a warm blanket and his cloak -- and his iPod -- he went for a walk down to the little river running along the back of the Trio's property. Spreading the blanket on the ground, he cast a vigorous Warming spell, then settled down with the cloak over him and his hands behind his head so he could look up at the stars, earbuds in and CCR on, his foot keeping idle time to the blues, his mind thinking about his one visit to New Orleans, magnolia tress and Spanish moss and mosquitoes, beignets for breakfast and afternoon rain and muggy June heat melting the sky in the evening like orange marmalade.
Well, take me back down where cool water flows, yeah.
Let me remember things I love,
Stoppin' at the log where catfish bite,
Walkin' along the river road at night,
Barefoot girls dancin' in the moonlight.
I can hear the bullfrog callin' me.
Wonder if my ropes still hangin' to the tree.
Love to kick my feet way down the shallow water.
Shoefly, dragonfly, get back to your mother.
Pick up a flat rock, skip it across green river ...