Somewhere Only We Know--Titus

[Gracie Lee King]

Fall had always been cold in Gracie Lee King's opinion. She had always liked the colors of it but it reminded her too much of her sister, Cecelia who had been perfect. Until they'd found out she was a squib and sent her off, then Gracie had found out she was shot. The pain had been immense, despite the fact that the two sisters hadn't ever truly gotten along. Gracie herself didn't even know why until now. It had been because Cecelia had been the imperfect one and they'd let Gracie replace her, like Cecelia hadn't mattered anymore. To Gracie Cecelia had always been her sister, but to her parents she was a disgrace upon the family name. Gracie scoffed just thinking about it, like they had a family name that was good anyways. Between the fact that her parents had always watched her every move and they were one of the more superior families no one really wanted to worry about them. Worrying about the King's was an understatement, people would worry but then they would fret. When her mother had died the whole wizarding population of Paris had been shocked. The Lady King had died, it was supposed to be impossible. But yet it had happened. Gracie hadn't cried at the funeral but more so rolled her eyes at those before her who did, they had barely known her mother like Gracie had. Such a cruel woman surely hadn't been so loved. But yet she had.

Walking into the comforting atmosphere of a local bar, Yanks, and smiling at the people she knew and nodding at those who she was friendly too Gracie found a seat at the bar by herself. She never really knew what to say to people when she saw them in public, so Gracie would always be the one to smile and wave sometimes but otherwise she just had her face of cold feeling on as her mother and father had called it once. That had been confusing to her always but she really didn't care, as long as they couldn't read her emotions it worked. Everything was fine then.

"A firewhiskey please," Gracie told the bartender with a small smile as she looked around. It was quiet for now but there'd be the five o'clock crowd coming soon to talk over some qudditch game that had probably just happened. Pulling out her writing editorials to work on she smiled as her firewhiskey arrived and she got to writing, it was calming for now.

[titus etienne baudelaire]

[classy=writeus]yank's wasn't a good place for youngsters to be, simply because of the fact that it was a pub -- alcohol wasn't meant to be sold to minors too irresponsible to deal with the aftermath of consuming them. the other reason was because yank's was located in knockturn alley, one of the seedier alleyways of wizarding britain. titus had already seen a few fifth years trying to get themselves some liquor by ageing themselves via a spell, but it was incredibly obvious that they weren't their ages -- for one, he had yet to see an old man that used words like that's cool, yo or did you see that, bro. that, and the gait. titus had chalked it up to them being particularly sprightly, but when one of them vaulted over a low wall, something was very clearly amiss.

he'd raised an eyebrow disapprovingly at them, maybe slipped a word or two across the counter before giving them each a juice box -- they'd left without further word or comment. he hoped that they wouldn't be caught in the terrors of knockturn alley; dark wizards were around, but he was safer inside than out. he watched as the beginnings of a crowd filed into the bar. his work tonight had just begun; he hoped he wouldn't have to handle the usual group of riffraff that were out just to create havoc in the middle of the night. (he generally tolerated them, but it didn't mean that he needed to like them.)

he ran a hand through his hair, and sighed through a long exhale. tonight was going to be a busy night; was it because everyone had gotten their paychecks recently, or was it because there were relationship problems all over the board? he'd been serving shot after shot to a strange man in a woolly jumper at the end of the bar; he hadn't shown any signs of getting drunk yet. it was amusing to watch him, to some extent -- he found it funny how some came to get drunk, but couldn't, while the reverse cases happened as well.

all in a day's job, he told himself.

his attention fell on a blond woman at the counter who had been sitting a while and ordered her choice of drink when he turned to her. certainly. his tone was kept light and agreeable; as a bartender, his job was to serve alcohol to customers who wanted to drink -- he wasn't supposed to care once the glass left the counter and was downed by the people, but he often found himself slipping a little less liquor into their concoction when they seemed to be losing their grip on consciousness.

titus turned his back to the lady as he reached for the bottle of firewhiskey from the shelves. he glanced at her, hard at work -- she seemed to have quite the amount of paperwork to take care of, he thought, the whiskey trickling into the glass as he kept his hand steady. the man returned her smile with a carelessly easy one of his; he slid the glass over the counter and nodded once. a dose of courage -- if you don't mind me asking, are you, by chance, a teacher? he settled on a stool behind the counter, upon the sudden realization that the pub had fell quiet, the bar deserted at the moment.

i've heard that marking homework takes courage, but that's just a rumor around these parts. his smile eased, widened pleasantly. ... ah, don't mind me; just a curious bartender prying.

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[Gracie Lee King]

Gracie tried to stifle a laugh as she listened to him talk. Her a professor at Hogwarts? Oh no, that was never the job for Gracie. She was content with her writing job at the Daily Prophet. At least she didn't write the controversial topics, those writers always got the most hate. Maybe not everyone agreed with the topics but at least no one was psychotic enough to send someone to kill them, yet anyways. With a powerful wizard, Voldemort on the loose everyone had some fear in their life. She wasn't supposed to be worrying about that right now, it all would just remind her a little too much of her sister. Cecelia who had been disowned because her parents had only ever wanted perfect children. Cecelia and Gracie had never gotten along, but now Gracie regretted ever being mean or cruel to her. Although most of the time it had always been Cecelia doing the pain to Gracie. That didn't matter now, she had died thirteen years ago. It was over, everything was fine now.

"No, I don't work at Hogwarts. I think the students scare me more than I scare them most of the time," she answered with a small smile and looked at the bartender. He was certainly handsome she noted as he sat near her. She looked over, smiling at him as she took a small sip of her firewhiskey. Tonight she could just sort of relax, it was an early Friday night and not much had happened yet anyways.

"Gracie King, I work for the Daily Prophet. You probably haven't heard of me," she told him and looked over. Would it be too formal to shake hands with him in the bar? Even worse was the fact that she had a few business cards in the pocket of her coat. It was fall now, and a rather cold season had come upon London. She fiddled with the buttons on her navy blue pea coat for a few seconds then looked up again, brushing back her hair. "Thank you. For the firewhiskey. What is your name again?" Gracie asked as she smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Maybe he was already taken but she knew she was searching and shouldn't jump to conclusions. Besides, to him she was just another girl at the bar. He saw tons of those nightly most likely.

[titus etienne baudelaire]

[classy=writeus]haha, that's true, i suppose. agreeing was something he did readily and easily; it didn't take much to give a word or two that sounded like agreement. and besides -- agreeing was almost always a better option than disagreeing. the latter usually prompted a more thought-out answer to back up one's train of thought, and bartenders weren't supposed to do that. (he certainly was capable of it, though. he just didn't like showing it off; revealed too much, but there were times where he got carried away ...) i've heard that some are quite the handful.

he smiled at gracie as she said her name; it was a graceful name, but what she said next piqued his interest. from the daily prophet, eh ... ? baudelaire, titus. he found it only right to offer her his last name as well, as she had done. oh, you work for the prophet? best not let it be known. he smiled, glancing around the thankfully vacant bar. knockturn alley was well-known for the seedier figures in the wizarding world -- dark wizards and witches often found what they needed in this particular alley, for they carried wares that weren't as ... commonplace as out there in sunshine-bright diagon alley.

you are right, indeed. i've never heard of you. though i suppose it's good to know who your colleagues are ... he vaguely remembered the failed beginnings of an article on a cursed set of dinnerware. he remained silent about his part-time occupation as he rose from his seat before gracie. may i be so daring as to guess that you're not a writer for the paper, then? he tilted his head, trying to appear just a hint of curious, without intimidating her.

he didn't know if she was like the other patrons who enjoyed having their life deduced before their very eyes. it was, admittedly, a cheap thrill for him (and also the customers, if one was going to be technical about it). well, they struck me as the type to hide in their rooms, thinking of a way to fashion a tale into the hottest wizarding gossip ... his voice trailed off, and he chuckled. though i suppose there are those who travel, looking for their next big break. he turned to pour himself a glass of soda, but his attention soon returned to gracie and that charming smile of hers.

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[Gracie Lee King]

The last time Gracie had been in love it hadn't gone well. She didn't even remember his name, much less why it had ended. Then again, she had thought he was the one but that turned out false. That had taught her that people lied and you'd need to get over it. It hadn't been as bad as Cecelia's death though, she figured she'd sound pathetic and selfish to even compare the two. There wasn't even anyone to tell it too, this Titus probably wouldn't care even.

"Charming name, charming man," Gracie muttered with a smirk on her face as she looked at him again. He wasn't that bad looking, a bit of an older look to him but it wasn't that big of a deal anyways. Of course, you never judge a book by a cover, he could turn out to be one of those Death Eaters anyways. "I can't imagine the stress of being a teacher, I'd be here every night!" Gracie told him with a flourish of her hands, blushing as her wild nature came out slowly. Listening to him talk even drove her crazy, his tone of voice was so persuasive, she'd follow him anywhere with a tone like that. It would be worth it anyways. If she was going to be killed he'd certainly be the last voice she'd want to hear saying something smooth and sexy. What was she thinking? This was ridiculous, she couldn't even imagine herself having thought things like this but yet she did.

"You're name actually rings a bell...were the man who inquired once about sending in articles? I think I remember you, some co-workers were discussing it but of course shut up the moment I walked in," Gracie told him, resenting her co-workers who feared her. Which were mostly all of them. She was just a demanding woman with needs, they didn't need to fear her so much. It wasn't like she was going to bite them! Not yet anyways.

"Sorry...I tend to talk too much," she apologized, looking up at the charming face of Titus Baudelaire while tilting her head downward and looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes.