Daffodil Grimstone Greer Owens

Morning of July 6, 1895 — Gladrag's Wizardwear

The continent hadn't changed Barnabas, if one didn't count his coffee bean addiction and that he now prided himself on dressing in American muggle fashions. Which was why a theatrical gasp had escaped him a few moments ago upon the realization that he had not packed his matching cravat for his mourning suit. It had taken him six hours in the shop back home to select it. Now here he was, having to show up to his poor cousin's funeral without it. He might as well be naked at that point!

After reassuring Mrs. Stewart, whose boarding house he was staying in, that he was not in imminent danger–she seemed quite concerned over the staircase and his cane–Barnabas tossed his hat back on his head and made his way directly to the only place in town he could think of.

Gladrags.

Having his robes shortened and tailored frequently when he'd lived here, he thought they were the best chance at providing what he was looking for. And if not, they could easily whip something up to his specifications.

Which is precisely how the clerks had quickly gotten rid of ushered him to a seamstress.

"I need a cravat made with the finest, pure onyx silk that you have," He said to her by way of greeting.

  

---

Barnabas walks with a cane. Set by Lady.

Greer had only heard a little of the hubbub at the front, too lost in her own little world working on some embroidery for a wedding veil when the girl who ran the desk popped her head in to ask her to take a customer. Nodding, Greer took a minute to finish the full stitch and set the hoop down on her worktable to come back to. Hopefully this would be quick.

Oh? We were skipping polite greetings then. The tone that she was met with already set her teeth on edge. She also couldn't help the little derisive noise that was somewhere close to a chuckle of disbelief. "Sir, this is not Paris, or even London. I do not have onyx silk." Her Australian accent was thick and noticeable; if she knew that, he certainly ought to know it. Granted she had only been working here for a year and a half, but she knew Hogsmeade's limitations when it came to fashion choices. Not to mention Gladrags was not the most upscale place on offer.

"I can show you what we do have, but if that's what you want, you will have to go to Diagon Alley." Which she honestly hoped he might do. Something about him told her this was going to be an unpleasant experience.

---

  

---

Greer has a noticeable Australian accent. I normally mention it, but fyi!

Having been on the receiving end of scoffs and disgruntled looks, Barnabas could recognize one when he received one. (He never deserved them mind you, but he would get them just the same.) In fact, he would have returned this one if the accent when she had spoke hadn't distracted him. It was one he didn't hear often–Australian possibly–especially here in Hogsmeade. He would have expected this back in America, but not in the tiny wizarding bubble of Scotland.

He frowned at her response, surely Gladrags had something suitable, "Unfortunately time is of the essence, and I cannot fit additional traveling in my schedule." Not to mention that he didn't want to be out in public to begin with! "Could you go on my behalf?" He suggested, "I can ensure you're time is accomodated for. It's important that I have it today."

  

---

Barnabas walks with a cane. Set by Lady.

This time she openly laughed, but had the decency to keep it to a short bark. "And you interrupted a profitable project that I really don't have time to step away from for that long." The nerve on some people. A cravat could be whipped up in short order, but she certainly did not have the time to be gallivanting off to London to pick up fabric and then make the tie. Her time was valuable too, whatever accommodations he planned to make.

"I can show you the silks we do have, or you're out of luck." She was already wasting time standing here arguing with him, there was no point in delaying the inevitable. She would no doubt, receive a reprimand for being so straightforward, but she had minded her manners quite well up until now.

---

  

---

Greer has a noticeable Australian accent. I normally mention it, but fyi!

Barnabas' wide mouth twisted in distaste at the noise that had errupted from her. Whatever it had been, it certainly hadn't been well-mannered. This trip to Gladrag's was getting more and more disappointing by the minute. If he'd had the time–which they'd just established he did not–he would have demanded to speak to the owner so he could tell him exactly how unhelpful his employee was.

"Fine," He said shortly, "I doubt you'll have anything up to standard, but I'll humor you, at least." Barnabas shuffled back a few steps to give her room to pass by, should she need it. "Lead the way, madame," He said as if were doing her a favor, going so far as to mockingly bow his head slightly.

  

---

Barnabas walks with a cane. Set by Lady.

Sighing heavily, Greer was now on a mission to get him out as fast as humanly possible. "Right this way." She plastered on a fake smile and showed him to the fabrics she thought would best suit his needs. Silks were hard to come by and very pricey, so they didn't have many, and they certainly didn't have onyx but they did have some limited satin and chiffon if he was feeling... frivolous.

She pulled a few bolts from the wall, one a deep grey satin, one a lovely black chiffon and a couple of other suitable materials for a cravat. It wasn't like he needed a suit, so hopefully she could make it quickly and be done with him. She motioned wordlessly to the fabrics on the table for him to inspect. Once he picked one out, all she had to do was measure him without choking him and then he could be on his way.

---

The following 1 user Likes Greer Owens's post:1 user Likes Greer Owens's post
   Barnabas Skeeter

---

Greer has a noticeable Australian accent. I normally mention it, but fyi!

His retort seemed to have worked. She'd sorted herself out and had even given him a smile. She did have a nice smile, though he doubted it would do her any good based on her personality. At least she had started doing her job, pulling bolts of fabric that were less than ideal to the nearby table. He got a whiff of her (perfume, hair, whatever it was that was on her person–he wasn't interested in women's cosmetics, how should he know?) as he approached the table. She smelled nice. Almost like... he tried to place the unique scent. Where had he smelled it before?

He stepped toward the table and eyed the fabric with distaste. "Chiffon?" He plucked at the offensive fabric with raised brows, "Really?" He did a quick head to toe look at her - she was dressed quite fashionably. She ought to have recognized his own good taste and known that he wouldn't have gone near a chiffon cravat with a ten foot pole.

  

---

Barnabas walks with a cane. Set by Lady.

Greer supposed she should have expected this reaction, given his snooty attitude, but still the hair on the back of her neck went up. If she was a cat, she might have hissed at him. Instead she inhaled slowly through her nose and counted to five. He wasn't worth ten. Maybe she ought to offer him a bowtie, which were in higher fashion anyway. Those she already had couple made and she could change the color to onyx if he really wanted.

"If the fabrics are truly not to your liking, I do have some bowties already made, I can easily change the color." And maybe charm it to change back to something garish right when he least expected it to. That might teach him.

---

  

---

Greer has a noticeable Australian accent. I normally mention it, but fyi!

"Hm," He hummed thoughtfully. A bowtie? Barnabas considered how that would look with the suit he planned to wear the next day. He could pull any fashion off of course–he had the face and build for it-but was it the statement he wanted to make? "That isn't too cheery for a funeral, is it?" He asked hesitantly. Then he realized he hadn't actually told her about the occasion until now, so he added for context, "My cousin died recently and his funeral services are tomorrow."

  

---

Barnabas walks with a cane. Set by Lady.

Greer pursed her lips. Knowing the occasion was a funeral did change the situation a little. "I'm sorry for your loss." It was perfunctory, but she still felt the need to say something anyway. "Perhaps." If it was something more formal a bowtie would have been fine, but she rather thought a daytime funeral called for something a little more demure. "Let me check in the back to see if there's anything else that might work." There may have been some scraps she could work with. It wouldn't require that much fabric and Greer was pretty crafty when it came to working with the leftovers of some things. One of her favorite embroidery jobs was purely done with leftover thread.

"I'll be right back." She held up a hand and disappeared into the back. Despite his... irksome attitude, she supposed it if was a funeral he was needing the cravat for, she could be a little more hospitable. Grief did funny things to people; she ought to know.

Hauling out the scrap basket onto her work table, Greer dug through toward the bottom where she knew she had something leftover from a mourning dress she'd done a few months back. She came up with a deep charcoal grey silk. It looked black except for in certain lights. Perhaps it would work. It should be just enough too. "I do have this silk," she offered as she re-emerged and held it out for his inspection.

---

  

---

Greer has a noticeable Australian accent. I normally mention it, but fyi!

Barnabas accepted her condolences with a gracious duck of his head, "Thank you." He tried to be patient as she disappeared off to whatever 'the back' was. Likely where they stashed the most hideous of fabrics (and employees, probably.) It didn't take her long, admittedly, but that paired with his anxiety at having his plans of hiding away foiled until the funeral had him anxiously tapping his physical foot. She reappeared with a scrap of fabric in her hand. He eyed it and lifted his hand, expecting her to pass it to him so that he could see it more clearly. It certainly looked onyx from where he stood.

"Is there something wrong with it?" He asked suspiciously. Why hadn't she offered this from the very beginning? Had she been so lazy that she hadn't even bothered going to the back to search when he had asked for it the first time. Why bother going round and round like this if it had been here the whole time? Perhaps she wanted to stall and have the interaction take longer... which could only mean that she enjoyed his company and was interested in him romantically.

Barnabas' demeanor changed as he abruptly turned his frown into his handsome grin (he knew it was handsome, because he'd practiced it in the mirror), "It's no matter, I'll take it."

  

---

Barnabas walks with a cane. Set by Lady.

Greer rolled her eyes. "I don't typically offer scraps for a first option." She explained, just managing to keep the bulk of the sarcasm from her voice. Knowing what she did about the occasion now, she was going to bite her tongue and play nice. Fortunately, despite the sardonic question, he seemed to think better of second-guessing her again.

"Lovely, I just need a quick measurement and you can be on your way." It was an easy pattern, then a quick edge and she would be all done and frankly, she'd pay for the expedited owl herself if it meant she could be done with him for today.

Gesturing for him to follow, Greer procured her measuring tape and a small pad of parchment to take notes. Fortunately Mr. Grump was not all that much taller than her, so Greer did not need her stool to measure his neck. "If you could just loosen your collar so I can measure correctly." She requested, hands on her hips.

---

  

---

Greer has a noticeable Australian accent. I normally mention it, but fyi!

Well... she could have offered scraps if she'd known this was here the whole time and would fit the bill. He could have been in and out in a matter of minutes. But of course, she had orchestrated the length of their interaction and was dragging her feet. Very well. She was pretty enough, though her hair wasn't to his usual taste, but he could overlook that. She was of the right stature and build. Barnabas could play along.

And then his eyes widened at her next request. She... was she truly asking him to show her more of his skin? So soon? A small part of him knew this would have happened at some point anyhow given the nature of why he was even here. (Of course she needed access to his neck to measure correctly.) But it still caught him off guard. If they had been anywhere else, this would have been incredibly forward of her. Not that he minded, in this case. In fact, she could tell him exactly how she liked–he cleared his throat to stop that train of thought. He didn't even know this woman's name!

"Of course," He reached for his collar to do as she requested, pulling it wide so she could access it easily, "Forgive me, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Barnabas Skeeter. I appreciate your assistance in this matter, Miss...?" There, the name matter would be rectified shortly.

  

---

Barnabas walks with a cane. Set by Lady.

Making note of his name on her little notepad, Greer looked up at him with furrowed brows. Why on Earth was he looking at her like that? His demeanor had changed drastically in the last few minutes and now she had to wonder if he was drunk or under the influence of something else.

"Owens." She answered slowly. It wasn't as if he would need her name to come back to her boss and complain, the "blonde with the Australian accent" would be the only needed clues. Thankfully he complied without much else for commentary and Greer was able to measure what she needed in order to make the cravat the right size and length. And she'd managed to do it with only one brief thought of choking him with the measuring tape.

She added the notes to her parchment, "I can have it done this afternoon, I can priority owl it as soon as it's finished. Is there a good address to send it to?" The sooner she was done with him, the better.

---

  

---

Greer has a noticeable Australian accent. I normally mention it, but fyi!

He was careful to stand still for her, though there hadn't been any of the expected accidental brushes of her hand or stepping just a hair closer than appropriate. This would have been the opportune time for her to make her interest known. Then her eyes narrowed in a look he was all to familiar with receiving from the fairer sex. Suspicion. She was suspicious of him. To be fair, she didn't need to be. Her motivates had been obvious that even a puppy could have picked up on it.

Barnabas responded with a quick grin, playing along as he'd decided he would, "There's no need to trouble yourself, Miss Owens. I'm happy to wait here for it." He tilted his chin down slightly with raised brows as he met her eyes, in a 'I know what you're doing and we're both in on it' sort of way.

  

---

Barnabas walks with a cane. Set by Lady.

If Greer had more control over her facial features, she wouldn't have let her mouth drop or her eyes widen at the offer to stay. Not fifteen minutes ago he was near irate that she didn't have a specific silk and now he wanted to wait for it? Why? Just why? She did not have time for this level of tomfoolery today. She recovered quickly, schooling her expression into something more neutral, but she did not know how to back out of this gracefully.

"It's going to take me at least an hour." She had to find the pattern, make sure there was enough, cut it out, fix the edges, press it. Even using her machine, it wasn't going to be an instant process. "And I have another quick project to finish before it." She didn't need to finish the embroidery, but she was almost done with the section she had started and if the waiting became an inconvenience, that ought to put him off. He didn't even "have time" to go to London, surely he didn't have time to sit around here either. "It'll be done by day's end though, if you want to come back," she was not closing today, but she could box it up and leave it for him.

---

  

---

Greer has a noticeable Australian accent. I normally mention it, but fyi!