March 12, 1890
The Augurey Beak Cafe
The Augurey Beak Cafe
I don't see anything now
So just say what you want to say
It's kind of funny how I'm not listening anyway
-The Used
So just say what you want to say
It's kind of funny how I'm not listening anyway
-The Used
Holsten hated society events. They were always the same damned thing. Didn't matter if they were given some other name or description. They were always the same. Gentlemen dressed in suits that really were far too tight. Ladies trying to appear demure and innocent despite having their waists cinched in ridiculously tight and their breasts damn near ready to spill over. It was always a sight to behold and he hated every damned minute of it. But thanks to his brother's impending nuptials, he was back in town and his mother was expecting him to play the part of a proper upper class gentleman and not the reckless and wild cursebreaker. The only saving grace was that she did not expect him to remain the whole time. She'd come to learn over the years when and how to pick her battles with her youngest son. Seeing him dressed to the nines and with his hair styled with something other than dust and sweat was an accomplishment in itself. One that he'd parade about for exactly one hour and twenty-two minutes before he disappeared from the crowded London ballroom and found himself in the crisp night air.
Sure, he could have apparated to his flat to change then headed to a pub but he quite enjoyed stretching his legs and getting some fresh air. It was the explorer in him that much preferred actually waking places instead if simply appearing there. But the minute he walked into the hazy Augurey Beak Cafe, he regretted not having stopped at his flat.
It wasn't because he stood out like a sore thumb. No, he'd expected that. It was because of an all too familiar archaeologist standing at the bar. One that he really was not in the mood to be seeing that night. He even attempted to slip right back out of the pub, resigned to spending the night at home alone with a bottle of whiskey, but got intercepted in the process.
An old cursebreaker acquaintance saw him and yelled out his last name while motioning for him to come to the bar. There was no way she hadn't heard his name being called and no way he could slip away quietly. Plan B would have to be enacted. He'd head to the bar, have a quick drink with the old acquaintance and pretend as if he hadn't even seen her. He'd leave and be in his way.
Besides, she'd never seen him done up in such a way so maybe she wouldn't even recognize him. He had to hope that was the case otherwise his night was likely to get even worse.
Sure, he could have apparated to his flat to change then headed to a pub but he quite enjoyed stretching his legs and getting some fresh air. It was the explorer in him that much preferred actually waking places instead if simply appearing there. But the minute he walked into the hazy Augurey Beak Cafe, he regretted not having stopped at his flat.
It wasn't because he stood out like a sore thumb. No, he'd expected that. It was because of an all too familiar archaeologist standing at the bar. One that he really was not in the mood to be seeing that night. He even attempted to slip right back out of the pub, resigned to spending the night at home alone with a bottle of whiskey, but got intercepted in the process.
An old cursebreaker acquaintance saw him and yelled out his last name while motioning for him to come to the bar. There was no way she hadn't heard his name being called and no way he could slip away quietly. Plan B would have to be enacted. He'd head to the bar, have a quick drink with the old acquaintance and pretend as if he hadn't even seen her. He'd leave and be in his way.
Besides, she'd never seen him done up in such a way so maybe she wouldn't even recognize him. He had to hope that was the case otherwise his night was likely to get even worse.