There's only two ways that these things can go
Good or bad and how was I to know

June 20th, 1888 - The Hog's Head

One of her fellow Broomsticks lodgers was watching Josie, which left Nicky free to change from her South African clothes into her poor people British clothes. No wedding ring. She did her hair a different way, the braid cascading down her back in an Ophelia-ish style, and left through the back door. Thus, she abandoned the small network of people who knew Mrs. Nicole Van der Sandt and was free to do what she wanted.

She found the Hog's Head through the fog and stepped through the door. The familiar musty smell of a trashy bar greeted her, and Nicky sidled up to the bar, ordering hard liquor.

Once she had her whiskey, she stepped away and took a gulp of it. Her eyes scanned the room. After a beat, she took a few steps to slip into the barstool next to a scruffy man who looked like the sort of person she was looking for. "It's a cliche if I ask if you come here often," Nicky said. At the Broomsticks, she used the same Afrikaner accent she heard at home - here, she was using the vaguely classy British accent of her birth. "But I thought I'd ask anyways."

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Nicky has been out of the UK since 1881; you probably don't recognize her, but talk to me if you think your character might!
She is currently living in the Three Broomsticks, pretending to be a middle class Afrikaner from South Africa.

Frederick had very little to do, what with the fog. He couldn't travel anywhere and couldn't go to work. He was still theoretically able to send in stories as he finished them, but that necessitated there being something worth writing about. An aspiring young reporter could have put together a story with owl-interviews and research, but Fred wasn't very aspirational, and since there wasn't anything of immediate interest happening to him, he was mostly just taking time off. He'd probably keep doing that until either the fog cleared, or he ran out of money and needed to write something in order to sustain his drinking habit.

Sarah wasn't working, either, which meant she was home and pretending to be cheerful, which he wasn't particularly in the mood for. He'd made his way out to the Hog's Head, one of his favorite bars due to its proximity to home (and now the only bar, since his London haunts were out of the question). He was mostly just killing time, until he was approached by a lady he didn't recognize — with an accent that did sort of sound like a lady's, although her clothing seemed to match the decor well enough. Freddie let his eyes wander over her, taking her in — not just her appearance but the little details like what she was drinking, as well — and slipped his right hand briefly into the pocket of his jacket, so that he could slide his wedding band off. Just in case.

"Often enough to know that you don't," he said with a coy smile. "What's brought you here?"

  

The man looked her up and down, and Nicky felt that familiar thrill of the chase in her stomach. She'd picked him out at random - mostly because he was the most good-looking man in the bar - but it was good to know that he was looking at her.

Besides that, he had the presence of someone who was looking for something. Nicky was too, and hoped that she could be the something he wanted. She smiled a similar smile, and shrugged her shoulders. "Came to Hogsmeade to seek my fortunes," she said wryly, although it was a statement that actually had a nugget of truth to it. But she hadn't tracked down any Dippets so far. And none of her relatives would be in a place like this, either - the Hog's Head was for her.

"But here? I've always liked places like this," Nicky said, twirling a finger in the air to indicate the dirty bar around them, "This one doesn't disappoint."

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Nicky has been out of the UK since 1881; you probably don't recognize her, but talk to me if you think your character might!
She is currently living in the Three Broomsticks, pretending to be a middle class Afrikaner from South Africa.

To seek her fortunes, eh? It was almost certainly a bullshit answer, but it was the light-hearted kind of bullshit that was easy to bounce off of in conversation, and so he resolved not to dig any further into it than that. Besides, it wasn't as though he was really invested in whatever had brought this stranger to his bar (it did not even occur to Frederick in the vaguest passing sense that thinking of it as his bar might be considered problematic to several people, such as his wife, close friends and relations, or even the actual owner).

"Helluva place to seek your fortunes," he replied easily, with a fond but mildly dismissive eye roll at their surroundings. The decor of the Hog's Head really spoke for itself in that regard; no need to belabor the point by pointing out all of the myriad of things that were actually wrong with it. "Are you sure you didn't get lost along the way, Miss?"

  

Nicky gave a ringing laugh, covering her mouth with her hand as if she was embarrassed about the way the sound echoed in the bar. "Oh, I certainly lost the path along the way," she said. (In certain moments, she thought that was true - if she was to redo 1881, she would have found a rich old man to marry in the hopes that he would die soon. Regardless.)

"And what about you, hm?" she asked, "What brings you to me tonight?"

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Nicky has been out of the UK since 1881; you probably don't recognize her, but talk to me if you think your character might!
She is currently living in the Three Broomsticks, pretending to be a middle class Afrikaner from South Africa.

She laughed loudly, and the noise drew heads. As a married man, Freddie ought to have minded, but he was long past the point of trying to be subtle about flirting with other women; instead, he rather enjoyed the attention. That he was talking with a much younger woman, and an attractive one, was not something that would have been missed by the leery-eyed patrons of the Hog's Head, and that fact alone would have earned him bragging rights the rest of the night if the interaction ended up going no farther than that. Not that he thought that was very likely — all of the language she was using seemed to imply that she was up for a bit of fun. Lost the path was a familiar enough euphemism for a woman of less-than-conventional morals. What brings you to me instead of what brings you here also felt rather telling. She was prepared, he thought, to enjoy more than just the atmosphere at the Hog's Head.

"I gave up on my fortunes," he said with a sly grin. "Now I'm just on the lookout for a little fun."

  

Nicky returned his grin; her's was crooked and mischievous, the kind of expression she used for situations like this. Her heart thumped. She was excited about this, about him - everything about the man so far promised a quick tumble, which was exactly what she'd wanted when she walked into the Hog's Head. He didn't look like the sort of person she could steal from, She took a sip of her drink and held the glass in her right hand.

"I might be able to help you there," Nicky said. She slid her left arm over the bar and closer to him; it was an awkward position, but it enabled her to rest her fingers on his wrist. "I'm Nicky."

After all, why would she use a pseudonym here? She recognized none of the men. This had never been her crowd. And she was dead.

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Nicky has been out of the UK since 1881; you probably don't recognize her, but talk to me if you think your character might!
She is currently living in the Three Broomsticks, pretending to be a middle class Afrikaner from South Africa.

Frederick glanced down at her fingers just long enough to be sure that the contact there was intentional. When he noted that she wasn't pulling her hand away he knew immediately what her meaning was with that contact, and grinned all the wider. Was this enough preamble then, or should he buy her another drink? Either way, they were ending up in the same place — luckily, Sarah wouldn't be expecting him home for a while longer. Not that she would ask any questions if he was late; she knew those were questions she didn't want answered and it would just start a pointless fight to ask them.

"Freddie," he replied, taking a drink to polish off his glass and then letting his eyes run in the least subtle way possible over her body before dancing back up to her face. "Should I buy you another drink?"

  

He didn't pull his hand away. He had also looked over her in the most obvious way in the world, and Nicky felt warm satisfaction dip over her. She tilted her head at him and, with a not-entirely-ladylike sip, finished off her other drink. "No," she said, because while she could certainly have put away another neat whiskey, it felt rather pointless. They both knew where they were going, and she was not in the mood to play hard to get. "I think we could stand to head out, don't you?"

Luckily for her, he also did not seem the sort to get standoffish now. No, she thought - Freddie knew what he wanted.

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Freddie grinned. It was a shame the Hog's Head didn't offer room service, because he would have liked to have had both, but since he had to choose, he would have much preferred to get on to it rather than stick around and drink more.

"Lead the way," he said, after catching the bartender's eye and putting a few coins on the counter. Frederick was the sort who always had an open tab at the Hog's Head, and while they advanced him many a drink so long as he did pay eventually, rooms had to be paid upfront. If they ended up upstairs, he didn't want to have to take a break from the action to go down and actual pay for a few hours in one of the rooms. If, on the other hand, she wanted him back at her place, the funds could just go towards his tab. He'd drink it all sooner or later, anyway.

  

Nicky watched the coins clatter on the counter and thought for a second. If she took him to the Broomsticks, he could use the money for something else - alcohol, maybe - but she couldn't bring him back to The Three Broomsticks, where she was Nicole Van Der Sandt, and they might run into Josie besides. She couldn't have Freddie meeting or even seeing her daughter, after all. That would just complicate things in a way Nicky definitely didn't want.

The coins covered it anyways. Nicky pushed away from the bar and sauntered up the stairs, quick but not too quick; she did not want to seem too on-edge, and cared little for her reputation, besides. There was an unoccupied room at the top, to the right, and she pushed it open with her hip.

Nicky turned to Freddie, a smirk on her lips. "So," she said, all open-ended.

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Nicky has been out of the UK since 1881; you probably don't recognize her, but talk to me if you think your character might!
She is currently living in the Three Broomsticks, pretending to be a middle class Afrikaner from South Africa.