to the moon and back --

[charlie anderson]

camon baby with me we're gonna fly away from here

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i758.photobucket.com/albums/xx223/ka7raelizabeth/3346431062_dc458bf3d0-1.jpg); width: 388px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px;] — charlie strode down the cobblestone streets of knockturn alley. his hands tucked firmly into his trench coat pockets. the fall weather was in full swing and the cold wind whipped against his face. levitating behind him was a large wine box filled with alcoholic beverages to stock up his bar, YANK'S. a knockturn alley favorite to the downtrodden and shady visitors of the area. he approached the entrance to his pub and unlocked the door with a wave of his hand. the box of wine bottles neatly set itself down on the bar top. charlie shook off his coat, glad to be in the warmth of his home, and tossed it onto the flat surface of the bar as well. it was the middle of the afternoon and the place was technically closed, but occasionally some wizards or witches wandered in in the afternoons. charlie retrieved his reading glasses from his pants pocket and set them on his nose before he began to restock his newly acquired wine supply by the direction of his wand. suddenly he heard a sharp tapping at the window. he looked over to see his tawny owl, nixon, tapping ferociously on the window sill outside. charlie stopped his task and opened the window, allowing nixon to hop onto his outstretched finger. the owl carried a small rolled up piece of parchment attached to its leg. charlie stroked his pet then let it fly back out of the window and into the autumn air. he wondered who had possibly sent him mail. he hadn't been in england very long, and most of his old friends from new york were still under the impression that he mysteriously disappeared. he took a seat at the bar and unrolled the small letter. it looked old and rather dirty as though it had been lost on its journey several times. it was addressed from... his father. what? was this some kind of sick joke? voldemort had killed his parents here in england two years ago while charlie was still an auror in new york. he pushed his glasses up his nose and observed the handwriting. he recognized his father's messy scrawl instantly and realized that the letter was genuine. his father had probably written it before his death with the intentions of sending it to charlie, but it never found it's way to him, until now... he ran a hand through his unruly black hair, unable to decide whether to read it or not. the memory of receiving the news of their deaths was so unexpected, and still so painful for charlie since he never got any closure. he decided he needed a drink first. that would always help. he got up from the stool and moved behind the bar concocting a magical shot for himself that was particularly strong. he downed it instantly then eyed the letter on the surface of the bar as though it might grow a pair of legs and walk away. nope, he was still undecided. another drink! he poured another shot of the same substance and downed it quickly. maybe if he got himself inebriated enough he could read the letter without getting emotional... or, on the other hand, the plan might back fire and he might get more emotional than usual. his attention was so focused on the letter that he almost jumped when he heard the bell above the door ring out. someone had entered the bar. he snatched the letter from the bar top and crumpled it into a ball, stuffing it in his pocket. a customer... this early? he looked up and understood at once. of course, the only person who would actually be looking for a drink at twelve thirty in the afternoon on a sunday.

tagged: celeste | outfit: clicky! | words: 627

credit to kara of caution, shine, & atf.

[celeste trista aurelia]

[classy=celtext][classy=celicon][/classy]Sundays. Sundays were the absolute worst, mornings even moreso. Sunday mornings were when the woman wished, hoped, prayed for anything -- anything -- to alleviate the boredom. (Even some students dropping by her tower would have been nice, as much as she despised the work that usually came with it.) The woman had been distracting herself by holding boxing matches between her punching telescopes for the past while, but even that was getting boring. She halfheartedly cheered on the current punching-telescope-champion, a silver who was currently battling it out with a smaller, bronze telescope. It was a fierce battle; the silver hit harder, but the bronze moved faster. Celeste watched for another few seconds before waving her hand in the air. The two telescopes dropped to the ground with a clatter and clang.

"Sigh." Celeste pulled out her wand and pointed at the pile of broken telescopes -- victims that fell to the silver's devastating blows in previous rounds -- and the instruments reassembled themselves, flying off to make a dangerously teetering stack in a corner of her tower. Those telescopes wouldn't be punching for a while, but she could still threaten her students with them if they misbehaved. (More than a few people in her more rowdy classes had been sent to the hospital wing when she gave them some of the more nasty-tempered telescopes; after that, her students had calmed down quite a bit. Or maybe they were just scared.) "What shall I do now?" she complained, throwing herself onto her couch. Her grading had been finished the night before, her fishbowls were all clean, her quills had been sharpened to a lethal point -- and now the telescopes wouldn't even punch anymore. The woman threw her arms around a pillow, burying her face in it. "I'm just so bored," she pseudo-sobbed. "What should I do -- oh!"

Yes, of course! There was nothing that commanded her to stay at Hogwarts; as long as she came back in time for her classes, there really wasn't a problem. (Right?) Celeste hastily scrawled a note and stuck it on the outside of her door with a temporary sticking charm. The sign read, 'Out for a bit. If you have any questions, too bad.' "There." That should take care of any curious students, as if there were any. The teachers would know where to find her. She closed and locked her door from the inside, just in case one of the more violent items in her room decided to go rogue and perhaps break out of her tower; that would have been bad. She cast one last glance at her tower, then jumped out of the window and spread her wings.

An owl flying during the day was an odd sight, but not entirely uncommon in the wizarding community what with all of the letter deliveries. With silent flaps of her wings, Celeste made her way off of Hogwarts grounds. Once she left, she was free to Apparate wherever she wanted. She flew across the grounds, over the lake, all the way to the train station. The woman turned her head to make sure there was nobody around, then landed and transformed back into her human form. Where would she go from here? Her multi-functional watch (that ran on magical energy, not the silly things muggles called 'batteries') told her that it was a bit past noon. "Hm." What would be open at this time? "... I think I'll go and visit Charlie." Then there was a crack, and she was gone.

She materialized in front of the bar sign that read 'YANK'S'. The place was closed, but she pushed open the door regardless. The bell above her head rang out -- and, to her surprise, it seemed as if she had startled him. The woman saw him stuff something into his pocket, and her eyebrow raised. A smirk flitted across her face. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked, vaguely amused. "Shall I come back later?"

ooc: for charlie! I hope this post is okay. x:[/classy][newclass=celtext]font-size: 10px; width: 350px; text-align: justify[/newclass][newclass=celtext b]font-weight: bold; color: #ffdd99[/newclass][newclass=celicon]float: left; margin: 5 8 1 0; border: 3px solid #ffdd99;[/newclass]

[charlie anderson]

camon baby with me we're gonna fly away from here

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i758.photobucket.com/albums/xx223/ka7raelizabeth/3346431062_dc458bf3d0-1.jpg); width: 388px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px;] — charlie observed the stunning brunette enter his bar. it was celeste aurelia, a hogwarts professor, but an unusual one. she wasn't as well behaved as a professor ought to be and charlie liked that about her. hey, celeste. no, no, please come in. don't be silly take a seat, he insisted, beckoning her forth. he thought perhaps it was a blessing that celeste wandered into his bar. she could just provide the perfect distraction to take his mind off of his family, off of life, off of everything really. charlie walked around the bar to where the stools were and took a second seat down for her that was turned upside down on the face of the bar. he brushed off the top of the red fabric with one hand to make sure it was clean for her before she sat down. i was just, um, cleaning up... restocking and such... he mumbled. his mind was so all over the place that he forgot there was a bottle of rum open right in front of the stool that he offered for her to sit on. he had left it there when he was mixing shots for himself just moments earlier. when he spotted that it was there and she had clearly seen it, he corrected his statement. actually, i was... getting drunk alone, he admitted with a small smile, realizing how pathetic he was being. would you care to join me? he offered as he grabbed two fresh glasses from the rack above his head and slid them out of their holder. so celeste, he started, placing the glasses on the bar top and sitting down on the stool beside her. what brings you to my fine establishment this afternoon? his dark eyes surveyed the lovely hogwarts professor. he always thought she was meant for something other than teaching. in fact, when he had learned about her occupation he hardly believed her. charlie took off his reading glasses and set them down on the bar top rubbing his face with both hands. he lazily reached for the rum bottle and tipped the nose of it into his glass. he was too lazy to create any other kind of concoction. the bottle of red currant rum by itself would have to do. he set the bottle back down and picked up his glass. he looked down and eyed the liquid for a moment, swishing it around in the glass. he raised it to his lips and downed the entire contents in one massive gulp. he shook his head a little and made a noise like blahh sticking his tongue out slightly. surprisingly for a bartender, charlie wasn't a heavy drinker, nor did his body handle alcohol very well. while he was an auror in new york he was a pretty straight shooter and only engaged in casual alcohol drinking, and never to the point of total intoxication. he hadn't lived that life in two years, but he still never grew a taste for heavy drinking. even though he worked behind the bar, he had to be constantly alert of his surroundings so that he could solicit information. thus, he pretty easily became a drunken fool. oh, excuse my manners, he said, and started tipping the nose of the bottle into her glass as well.

tagged: celeste | outfit: clicky! | words: 556

credit to kara of caution, shine, & atf.

[celeste trista aurelia]

[classy=celtext][classy=celicon][/classy]The woman grinned. She really hadn't expected to be turned away; no, he was much too kind for that. It was a trait about him that she found rather endearing, if she was to be completely honest. There was a lack of truly chivalrous men in the world, and she was rather proud to say she knew one of the few remaining. He took down a stool for her, brushing it off, and she obligingly took a seat. It seemed as if she had visited at precisely the right time -- the bar was closed and empty, save for the two of them, and it looked like Charlie himself had just returned from wherever he was previously. The woman leaned forward and idly ran her finger across the countertop. Should she be the one to break the metaphorical ice today, or would Charlie bring it upon himself to speak first? (If he didn't say anything, she knew exactly what she was going to ask about.)

Then he mumbled an excuse, and the woman couldn't help but laugh. (Loudly.) "Lies ill suit you, darling," the woman chuckled, pretending to wipe away tears from her eyes. It was clear that restocking was low on his list of priorities, considering there was a blatantly open bottle of rum in front of her. Then he corrected himself, and Celeste leaned back and folded her arms across her chest, surprised. Charlie Anderson, getting drunk? By himself? How strange. "Join you?" she echoed, smirking. "But of course. I never refuse an offer to drink, don't you know?" She never mentioned the fact that she had the alcohol tolerance of Merlin -- by all means, she should be wiped most of the time when one considered how much she drank on a near-daily basis -- but she should at least drink with Charlie, make him feel a bit better. Something was biting at him, she knew. Perhaps this was an opportunity to know more about that thing in his pocket, and she certainly wouldn't refuse.

Celeste shrugged when he asked about her reasons. "Oh, the usual -- trapped in my tower, absolutely nothing to do, Sunday mornings, that sort of thing." The brunette rulled her eyes, waving an airy hand through the air. "One would assume that being a professor is interesting, but sometimes it's quite the opposite." She often wondered if teaching was worth it -- then she remembered the pay and the freedom the job usually provided her, and all thoughts of leaving her post few out of her window along with some students' papers. She watched intently as the man poured himself some rum, eyebrows raising when he simply downed the thing. He was hell-bent on getting drunk, it seemed. His reactions to the alcohol were amusing -- she knew he didn't drink like this on a regular basis, unlike her.

"Mm, thank you very much," the woman hummed when he poured her a glass of the alcohol. Celeste drank it with gusto; it wasn't dainty enough to be a sip, but she didn't down it as Charlie had. The woman regarded him with unveiled interest. "If I may ask, why are you drinking like this?" Celeste gestured to the bottle of rum he held and leaned forward. "Is something wrong, Charlie?"

ooc: for charlie![/classy]

[charlie anderson]

camon baby with me we're gonna fly away from here

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i758.photobucket.com/albums/xx223/ka7raelizabeth/3346431062_dc458bf3d0-1.jpg); width: 388px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px;] — charlie liked what tid-bits he heard about celeste's job. he knew next to nothing about hogwarts except that it was something like salem's institute. he once mistakenly referred to it as frogwarts which had gotten him some raised eyebrows. celeste, however, was probably a bad resource for such information, because she wasn't exactly a woman who looked too favorably upon her profession. maybe it was just that she was so used to it and had grown tired of it, but by now talking about her job was the least exciting thing about her life. charlie only began to understand this phenomenon within the last two years of being a bar tender. back in new york his job as an auror was everything to him. it was his entire life, and there was nothing he was more passionate about. now his job was a drag, and a chore just like celeste's might have become. interesting? no, no... you have to put up with those bratty teenagers all day. read about the ridiculous things they have to say, prepare them for the cruel world they're about to enter that doesn't care how well they do on an astronomy test or how good they are at deflecting spells 'cause no mattah how hard dey try or ready dey are sometimes shit just happens and it sucks and life just kicks ya feet out from under ya and suddenly ya have no one da turn to and nowhere da go— charlie stopped himself. he was rambling like a complete mad man now. his thick new york accent which had grown much more subtle since he moved to england was now coming back with a vengeance. eagerly, charlie took back the bottle once he finished pouring her drink. you're very welcome, he replied and filled up his own cup again. once again he raised the glass to his lips and it was down the hatch all in one shot. he made the same disgusted face again and slammed his glass back on the bar. he could feel the liquid like a warmth spreading through his body and blurring his senses. a small hiccup escaped him. he felt ridiculous, but celeste was the last person that would judge him for it. he turned towards her and licked the remaining liquid off his lips, his mind already getting fuzzy. i'm not too sure what ahm doin' actually, charlie admitted, his eyebrows slanting sadly. nevah really tried drinkin' things away, so i thought i'd give it a shot he added with a small smile. he lifted his glass up as a cheers then went to drink from it, only to realize it was empty. he was feeling it now, that was for sure. he sighed at his own stupidity and picked up the bottle for a third time, filled up his glass, and downed it all. d'ya evah just... ah dunno, wish ya could go back and do things differently? charlie asked when she asked what was wrong. sometimes, i just start thinkin' what tha hell am i doin' here? whaddid i come 'ere for? he looked down at his empty glass. celeste knew that charlie was from america, but she didn't know much about his past. the story charlie manufactured for everyone was that he was a beatnik, tired of his crappy job, looking to see the world! but now he wasn't thinking clearly. he couldn't keep his lies in check, and couldn't keep himself from spilling it out all of his emotions. charlie was a very passionate person that stood firmly for the things he believed in, and perhaps a part of him was just so tired of pretending to be something he was not. all of a sudden he started snickering to himself then looked back to celeste. i gotta be outta my damn mind... what am i gonna do? take out alla 'is deatheaters? charlie was laughing to himself as the words left his mouth. heh, then when ahm done... i'll just stroll right up tah 'im. avada kedavra! charlie was laughing fully now. that'll be it. charlie anderson, savior of tha wizardin' world! ha ha ha! he slapped the wooden surface of the bar with one hand, shaking his head as he slowly stopped snickering. he became much more serious, losing himself in his thoughts. he ran a hand through his coarse hair and stared forward. its not gonna bring 'em back... he said, barely more audible than a whisper. it seemed as though he forgot celeste was there and was witnessing a total nervous breakdown. he hadn't even realized the information he had just released. all of his thoughts were muddled.

tagged: celeste | outfit: clicky! | words: 780

credit to kara of caution, shine, & atf.

[celeste trista aurelia]

[classy=celtext][classy=celicon][/classy]"Oh?" The more Charlie spoke, the more amused the woman became. He certainly lost to alcohol quite quickly. She didn't interrupt while he spoke -- she simply listened as he started out logical enough, then began to slip back into that American accent. She hadn't heard that in a while. Celeste listened intently, absorbing everything he was saying. The woman knew what it was about his words that made her listen; he spoke from experience. It wasn't difficult for her to take another look at him and realize that there was more to Charlie Anderson than just being a bartender, owner of Yank's. Celeste found herself curious as to what his life was like before coming to England; she didn't buy into his whole 'travel the world' spiel. All she had to do was wait, and the brunette was confident that he would simply continue talking.

He took another drink, once again surprising her. The alcohol was being drunken with so much zeal -- whatever he was thinking about, it must have been pretty bad. She felt a vague regret in allowing him to monopolize the bottle of rum, but she supposed he needed it more than she did at the moment. Celeste only watched as he spewed words, getting more and more disoriented with each glass he drank. He answered her questions, and she didn't bother to even try to speak until he was done. Charlie was on a roll, and who was she to stop him? The woman only leaned against the counter, watching him with her clear eyes. In her mind, the puzzle pieces began to form and fit themselves together.

Whoever Charlie had been, the Dark Lord had obviously gotten to him; life had handed Charlie a bad hand, and this was the result -- life in a bar, catering to Britain's less savory characters, harboring a grudge and wanting revenge for what had been lost. Finally, the man finished. Celeste was silent for a few moments. "Is that all?" she asked, grabbing the bottle of alcohol. "You do tell quite the interesting story, Charlie." Celeste didn't bother to pour the drink into her glass, instead drinking straight from the bottle. She took a swig of the rum, then sighed in satisfaction. "I've been wanting some more ever since you started talking," she chuckled. Her flippant tone seemed out of place with the serious mood -- but, then again, who ever knew what Celeste Aurelia was thinking in that brunette head of hers?

She drank a bit more, then regarded Charlie with a bit of cynicism. "You know, I like you quite a bit more when you are, ah, sober." The woman leaned forward and poked the man's cheek. "You're not as wonderfully ... emotional." Celeste said the word with the same tone one would use when saying 'Doxy dung' or 'doing homework'. The brunette shook her head, sighing. This was the problem when people got drunk; it was like the floodgates of their past and emotions rushed out all at once, drowning any soul unfortunate enough to be caught in the flow. The woman, still holding the bottle, lifted it to her lips and swallowed some more. Unlike Charlie, it would take much more than a few glasses to even get her feeling the buzz.

Which meant that she could deal with him with a clear head. "To answer your questions," she began airily, "of course I have my doubts." What if she hadn't been dropped on the doorstep of that dilapidated church? What if she hadn't tried to steal from that couple? If she hadn't applied to become a teacher seven years ago, would she maybe live life differently than she did now? If any of the decisions she had made in life were changed, would she be happy? "But everyone does, darling." It was a part of life to regret things; 'what ifs' would always follow a person around like the plague. "I simply built a bridge and got over it." Celeste knew she had done things in her past that no self-respecting person should have ever done, things as a child that even adults would hesitate to do; but she refused to allow those things to affect who she was now.

The woman knew what would have happened to her if she dragged her past along with her. She would have wallowed in self-pity and hatred for the rest of her life and achieve nothing, go nowhere. Charlie sounded like he was obsessed with revenge -- and at the end of roads like that, all she could see was pain. The woman poked him again, sighing. "I'm not sure if I can dissuade you from this, Charlie --" she knew how vengance could consume a person -- "but be careful." Celeste sighed, grabbing the man's face and turning it toward her. She forced him to look into her eyes. "Charlie, I'm only going to say this once." This one time. "You are a fantastic friend, and I do not want to see you becoming just another victim." Her eyes flashed. "What you do with your life is up to you, but -- well, I'm here if you need me. Don't forget that."

ooc: for charlie![/classy]

[charlie anderson]

camon baby with me we're gonna fly away from here

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i758.photobucket.com/albums/xx223/ka7raelizabeth/3346431062_dc458bf3d0-1.jpg); width: 388px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px;] — charlie smiled when she poked his cheek, exposing his dimples. he felt rather foolish getting so emotional in front of celeste. especially as he watched her take a swing from the bottle without pouring it in her glass, he felt like the woman in the room. pouring his heart out because he was sad, emotional, and a light weight to boot. he sighed heavily, well, that's why i don't drink often, he added, raising his eyebrows. you on the othah hand, are quite tha seasoned veteran i see. charlie took the bottle back just as she finished taking a drink and tipped the nose of it back into his glass. he filled it considerably then returned to the bottle back to her. she was right. everyone had their regrets about life, and there was no point in wallowing. maybe it was about time charlie should get over his own past. he just had such trouble letting things go. charlie was a muggle born wizard, and while vacationing in london, his family was killed by lord voldemort. it wasn't something he felt he could get over so easily, but he couldn't blame celeste for not understanding. after all, she knew next to nothing about his situation, because he had kept everything about his life in new york so secret from his life in london. his plan was absolutely mad and would surely get him killed, but he needed closure. closure of a dangerous kind that motivated him to stop at nothing until he exacted his revenge. he was in danger, not only of losing his life, but of letting this thing encompass his entire purpose in life. it already had, to some extent. he was no longer in new york, doing what he loved, living as an auror. he was torturing himself in this shoddy bar. he was forced to pay attention to her when she turned his face towards her. she was right. he needed this wake up call, and he knew that, but it was just so hard to give up on revenge when it had already consumed him so fully. but on the other hand, he had never heard anyone offer their friendship like celeste had. no one had ever extended that to him before. maybe it was because he was drunk and less capable of shutting everyone out, but he was glad to know that there was someone else looking out for him other than himself. he had never felt more alone in london, but celeste had now made him feel otherwise. thank you, he said genuinely. and i'll try not to get myself killed, just fo' you celeste he laughed. he picked up his glass and took another big gulp. seriously, though, he said turning to her. you're a good friend. he rubbed his forehead. i'm a disastah right now... he reached into his pocket, took out the crumbled letter from his father and tossed it onto the bar top. i got this lettah today, he explained. he wasn't afraid to open up to celeste. he trusted her like he hadn't trusted anyone in london since he moved here, and felt good. getting things off his chest that he hadn't talked about with anyone since they had happened. just, uh, nevah made it to me when it was sent... from my ol' man. he was really about to tell her what happened, so he picked up his glass and chugged, finishing its contents. he would never open up like this ordinarily, and the alcohol had made him quite talkative, he figured it would help get the rest out. two yea's ago, my parents came here to london. visitin', sight seein' and whatevah... voldemort killed 'em, he said flatly. he knew that everyone referred to him as "he who must not be named", but charlie quickly got over that. if this was someone he wanted to kill, he would at least want to be able to say his name without being afraid. as if this wasn't bad news enough, charlie continued on with the tale of his past. a couple days latah, my sis went to visit dem... bodies were still there... charlie's voice turned into a mumble now. he had had way too much to drink than he could handle. his eye lids were heavy, and talking about all of this was extremely taxing on his mind. charlie focused his eyes on his empty glass, fidgeting with it between his hands. she couldn't handle what she saw... she took her own life. charlie found the words particularly difficult to even get out. he wasn't looking for pity from celeste, but to say the words out loud was something he had never done before.

tagged: celeste | outfit: clicky! | words: 766

credit to kara of caution, shine, & atf.

[celeste trista aurelia]

[classy=celtext][classy=celicon][/classy]Celeste's laugh was dry. "Just for me," she echoed. "I'm honored." No, that wasn't the point. She wanted him to live his own life, find his own happiness in a way that wasn't quite so ... self-destructive. (But he was human. They all were only human, subject to all the flaws that made them so.) Well, as long as she wasn't forced to attend his funeral, things could always get better. Celeste wasn't much of an optimist, but she didn't want to see this man as a corpse. She didn't make friends like Charlie very often; it would have been a pity to lose him to something like revenge.

She laughed again, more sincerely this time. "You are a disaster," she agreed. He was a blubbering mess of feelings and emotions and Merlin-knew-what. If it were anyone else, she would have simply stood and left the bar; goopy heart-to-hearts just were not her thing -- but this was Charlie. Walking out on him when he was like this was out of the question. Her eyes went to the letter he pulled from his pocket, and the woman almost sighed. So this was what caused today's mess. Celeste turned back to face Charlie, listening to his explanation. As before, the woman didn't interrupt. It was probably best to let him spill his guts without her cutting him off in the middle.

There was a small widening of her eyes when he said the Dark Lord's name, but Celeste quickly erased the surprise off of her face. The Dark Lord, He Who Must Not be Named, Voldemort -- they all meant the same thing. A name was just a name, after all. (Right?) She could see him growing tired, and briefly considered maybe dragging him to the nearest bench and dumping him there so he could sleep and maybe get a clearer head later before he continued his story. The woman mulled it over in her mind. The puzzle pieces began to align neatly in her mind. That's why Charlie worked Yank's, when even Celeste could see he was yearning for something else. His parents were killed, his sister took her own life -- for most people, that was enough to break them.

Then again, Charlie wasn't most people. He was her friend, after all.

The woman didn't offer any words of consolation, or any 'I'm sorry's. Phrases like that were empty, worthless. Instead, she merely looked at Charlie, her usual smile replaced by a serious expression. "Does this define you, Charlie?" Her question was not a taunt. "Does this -- all of it -- define who you truly are?" The woman sighed. "Because I have always thought you were stronger than to let your past strangle your future." If Charlie succumbed to revenge and died because of it, he was a disappointment. He had the potential for great things, if only he could let this go. (All she wanted was to see him succeed and be happy; maybe being a teacher for so long rubbed off on her.)

"I am sure you miss your family dearly, but I do not believe they wish to see you like this --" she gestured at him -- "any more than I do."

Celeste sighed, leaning forward. "In any case, I must thank you for confiding in me." She smiled, then gently punched Charlie's shoulder. "You look horrible, darling. Get some rest -- perhaps I shall even tell you my story in return." The woman stepped off of the stool, moving to her friend's side. "Do you require assistance, or can you manage on your own?"

ooc: for charlie! he seems like on the verge of passing out, so you can have him stumble to sleep or make cel carry him (or continue, it's up to you). you could timeskip to when he wakes up and isn't quite so drunk, and we could pick it up from there? whatever you want to do. c:[/classy]

[charlie anderson]

camon baby with me we're gonna fly away from here

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i758.photobucket.com/albums/xx223/ka7raelizabeth/3346431062_dc458bf3d0-1.jpg); width: 388px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px;] — he looked sideways at her when she had asked if this defined him. of course it did. it had for years now. but he had never thought of it that way, and it shouldn't have defined him. Because I have always thought you were stronger than to let your past strangle your future... charlie winced. he had felt more ashamed now than ever. not of his general drunkenness anymore, but of his life choices. since he had never talked about it before, no one had ever deterred him or brought it to light like celeste had. he was grateful that she was in his life, that was for sure. you are a good teachah, charlie said smiling, but he was serious about what he had said. it just sounded silly to him because for so long he never did think celeste was exactly the teaching type. she had proved him very wrong tonight. she was wiser than he was that was obvious. however, more than that she was also patient and listened to him. she drove him away from the edge which he teetered so daringly on. i know, i know, he grumbled. everything she said made perfect sense to him, despite the fact that he was intoxicated. perhaps that was the problem after all. he hoped when he sobered up in the morning he wouldn't just forget everything they had talked about and go right back to his blind vengeful path. you look horrible darling charlie attempted to flatten his disheveled hair (although that was certainly not what she was referring to). what? you don't want somma this? charlie slurred, stepping off his stool and motioning up and down towards himself. he at least had basic balance for the moment. he took a couple of steps. a little shaky, but he could at least walk alone. a small burp escaped him. 'scuse me, m'lady he said in a fake british accent. he was plastered. i can manage just fine... he took some wobbly steps towards the stairs that led up to his apartment on the floor above the bar. he wasn't sure whether he would make it there before passing out, but hey that's what friends were for. not that celeste needed to prove any more what a good friend she was. he gripped the railing firmly and proceeded up the steps until they reached the front door to his home. it was unlocked, charlie rarely locked it. he was always prepared (although today was an exception) for any threat that walked through his door. that was always his way. charlie stumbled into his apartment. the place was a complete disaster. it looked like a tornado had hit it. he wasn't usually this messy, but since he had dumped his life in england two years ago he had just never settled into this place. he had always thought that if he properly unpacked and got settled this could become permanent and that was a thought he dreaded. you don't wanna stay? charlie suggested. he wobbled over to the couch and collapsed face first.i could show you some real american lovin', he mumbled into a mouth full of fabric. i'll show you how we do things out west, cowboy style, not like you tommy prudes he laughed, lazily rolling onto his side to face celeste. seriously, though, he said, wiping the grin off his face. thank you... for puttin' up with me... for listenin'... i nevah told anybady about that... he felt his eye lids growing heavy. he felt himself getting increasingly tired, but he felt a little sorry for celeste. having to listen to his sob story. he wanted to make sure she knew how grateful he was that he could tell her about these things that happened to him, these things that broke him, and hopefully would not continue to shape his destiny.

tagged: celeste | outfit: clicky! | words: 646 | notes: yeah let's put this drunkard to bed... literally lol we could do a lil time skip then wrap er up

credit to kara of caution, shine, & atf.

[celeste trista aurelia]

[classy=celtext][classy=celicon][/classy]Celeste rolled her eyes -- of course she was a good teacher. She was good at everything in her own, completely unbiased opinion. It made the woman feel relieved (not that she would admit it) when he agreed with her. For now, he was away from the edge; somehow, she had prevented him from leaping off the cliff into that abyss of vengeance. It seemed like Charlie was a functioning drunk, even if he looked ready to pass out on his feet -- and if he could still crack jokes, Celeste was confident that he wouldn't pull anything crazy just because he was intoxicated.

With a laugh, the woman slid off her stool and ruffled Charlie's hair. "Just get to sleep, dear." She laughed again at his ridiculous accent -- nobody spoke like that -- and followed him up the stairs, ready to catch the man if he ended up falling. Now that he was listening to reason, it'd be a pity for him to fall and break his skull open on the stairs. Celeste stepped into his apartment, a place she had been only a few times before. Usually, they ended up just speaking in the bar below. To her surprise, the room was almost as disastrous as her Tower -- "Someone has been a bit lax with cleaning," she whistled. As if she should be talking.

The woman chuckled, dragging a chair over to the couch. She took a seat and affectionately patted the back of Charlie's head like a dog. "I shall stay," she laughed, "but you are entirely too drunk for me to do anything else." Celeste meant it, too. Reservations when it came to something like that were rare for the woman, but she wouldn't have risked her friendship with him for anything. She patted him again, rolling her eyes. "Of course I'd listen to you," she sighed. "What kind of friend do you take me for?" Celeste huffed in mock offense, crossing her arms over her chest.

When she got no reply, the woman laughed quietly. "Asleep already?" she murmured, shaking her head. Well, she had a few hours to kill before Charlie woke up, so she might as well do something productive. Like explore the rest of his apartment. By the time Charlie would come to, Celeste was certain she would be able to navigate the place with her eyes closed.

After her tour of the place and a large amount of time spent enchanting whatever knicknacks he kept in his apartment, Celeste found her way into the kitchen and began to cook. (Yes, cook. Contrary to popular belief, the woman was perfectly able to provide for herself.) The woman hunted down what she needed, then got to work making the incredibly difficult meal of scrambled eggs and bacon. (She was hungry, okay -- and the stuff was apparently good for hangovers.) The smell of food soon drifted through the apartment, and Celeste wondered if Charlie was going to wake up any time soon. "I'll eat it all if he doesn't," the woman mused, smirking. After a brief moment of pause, Celeste then whipped out her wand and summoned a glass, filling it with water and ice.

The brunette glanced at her multi-functional watch -- oh hey, she still had quite a bit of time left before she had to return to Hogwarts -- then finished cooking the food, humming to herself. "Charlie," she called, grabbing plates. "If you don't come and get your food now, there won't be any left for you later!" Maybe that would rouse the man.

ooc: for charlie! can you tell I was hungry while writing this?[/classy]

[charlie anderson]

camon baby with me we're gonna fly away from here

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i758.photobucket.com/albums/xx223/ka7raelizabeth/3346431062_dc458bf3d0-1.jpg); width: 388px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px;] — charlie awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs. was this a dream? it certainly smelled too good to be true. when he opened his eyes he realized he was face first planted in a pillow. he lifted his head slightly and looked around. he was in his apartment. how did he get up here? the details were foggy, but it started to come back to him. he wiped the drool from his chin and sat up on his couch. mmm... someone was cooking in the kitchen... celeste? right! it must have been celeste. but she was cooking? he didn't think she had it in her. celeste called him over to the food and he practically jumped up off the couch, only to realize, upon doing so, that he had a splitting headache. he waltzed over to the kitchen yawning with his arms outstretched. well, well, well, look at all of this... who knew you were so domesticated he teased. charlie sat down at the small table in his kitchen and rubbed his face. he felt like crap, probably looked like it too. he reached up for his hair, always his source of insecurity, and sure enough it was standing up in a strange formation due to his bizarre sleeping configuration. so do you feel as shitty as i do or am i the only one who made a fool out of themselves? he asked her as he began to gobble down the contents of the plate in front of him. he thought he perhaps already knew the answer to this question. he knew he had been utterly plastered, but it seemed as though celeste had been more of his care taker than his drinking buddy. he couldn't recall anything he really said or did last night either. he stopped mid-devouring a piece of bacon and stared at celeste. wait a minute... did we...? he asked motioning the bacon in his hand back and forth between the two of them. charlie didn't think they had slept together, but then he could hardly remember anything. the fact that he woke up on the couch with all of his clothes on was also a pretty good indicator that they hadn't, but he thought he'd check with celeste anyway. not that he would have minded if they had slept together, after all, celeste was a beautiful witch, but they were such good friends he didn't ever want things to be awkward between them. charlie picked up his glass of water next, chugging it down. he felt a little better already to have some food in him. drinking on an empty stomach was never a good idea especially when you were a light weight. charlie tried to force his mind to recall the details of his drinking binge, but he just couldn't. charlie was a man with a lot of secrets, a complicated past, and a lot to lose by making his true intentions known to other people, no matter how much he trusted them. he wracked his brain, but nothing came up. he made a mental note, promising himself to never lose control of his rational mind like that again. luckily it was only celeste with him, and she was a reliable friend. when they finished eating charlie picked the dishes up off the table and then let go of them, letting them drift into the air, over the sink where they began cleaning themselves. charlie had become particularly talented with this non verbal spell working in the bar. charlie leaned back in his chair and sighed, highly satisfied. thanks for the grub, charlie smiled, truly appreciative that celeste was there when he had woken up. i can't believe you actually found enough food in my fridge to concoct it... it's possible we just ate some expired eggs, charlie said with a chuckle. his apartment was usually barren for basic necessities. don't you have to get back to hogwarts soon? teach some kids about planets or whatevah, he teased with a smile. he always bothered celeste about the credibility of teaching astronomy. personally it was a subject he disliked and found no use for as a student at salem's so he liked to pick on her for it. he placed his hands behind his head and stretched out his legs with another yawn. what would he do without his brilliant companion?

tagged: celeste | outfit: clicky! | words: 728 | notes: omg now I'M hungry too!

credit to kara of caution, shine, & atf.

[celeste trista aurelia]

[classy=celtext][classy=celicon][/classy]Celeste rolled her eyes at the man when he entered the kitchen, sighing. "Now there's less for me," the woman complained. She grabbed her own plate and moved to sit across Charlie at the table. "And, if you must know, I am not domesticated." The woman shrugged. "I'm simply a kind and wonderful person. Where's my 'thank you,' hm?" With an exaggerated huff, Celeste began to eat her own meal. She glanced occasionally across at Charlie, hoping that he wouldn't decide to have the food violently ... well, thrown up any time soon. Too messy.

The woman chuckled when he fixed his hair -- that was the least of his worries -- and shrugged at his question. "Just you, darling." Celeste smiled an impish smile. "It's always just you." It was more amusing to see other people get drunk than it was to actually become so herself, in the woman's opinion. (And Charlie certainly made an interesting drunk.) "You're quite the lightweight, you know." Celeste searched his expression to see if he remembered what he had spilled to her only a few hours earlier, but it didn't seem as if that were the case. "Be thankful I was there to make sure you didn't do anything stupid."

She curiously glanced at her friend when he stopped eating, raising an eyebrow. "Did we ...?" she echoed, a hint of laughter in her voice. "Did we sleep together, you mean?" Celeste shrugged nonchalantly. "Of course not. I have no interest in men who are drunk out of their minds, no matter how attractive they may be." She laughed, then reached over and patted his head. It was true, but -- in his case -- she wouldn't have slept with him even if he was completely sober. Their relationship wasn't like that. He was more of a friend, a companion of the intellectual kind. (Since when had he become such a friend? When had she begun to think of him as more than 'the bartender' and as 'Charlie'?)

Celeste sighed loudly when he thanked her. "Finally, Sir Anderson deigns to give humble Celeste a word of thanks," she teased. "And of course I found enough food (that was fit to eat, I might add!) -- didn't you know? I'm magical." The woman wiggled her fingers in the air, as muggles sometimes did when referring to 'magic' -- of course, the magic they believed in was purely fantasy, whereas theirs was certainly real enough. She waved away his question about her students -- "I don't have class until later" -- and instead looked at the man, her expression becoming serious.

"Do you remember what you said?" she asked. "While drunk, I mean." For better or for worse, their relationship had changed. She would always want to make sure that he was safe no matter what he did. The woman felt as if it were almost her obligation to watch out for him. Sure, he could take care of himself, but Celeste didn't want to take any risks. Not with him. Celeste leaned forward. If he didn't remember, she would remind him. "Rather, do you remember what I said?"

ooc: for charlie![/classy]

[charlie anderson]

camon baby with me we're gonna fly away from here

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i758.photobucket.com/albums/xx223/ka7raelizabeth/3346431062_dc458bf3d0-1.jpg); width: 388px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px;] — suddenly celeste's expression became serious. uh oh... charlie hoped he hadn't offended her last night and she was still being nice enough to do all this for him. she asked him if he remembered what he said. oh man, charlie thought, he definitely must have been offensive. but her tone was different. then she added "do you remember what i said?" hmm, this was not simply a matter of charlie having offended her. there was more to this. what had he said? charlie straightened in his chair. his brow wrinkled and he rubbed his forehead. erm... he wracked his brain, but he really couldn't recall anything he had said last night. then slowly, it started to dawn on him. his brain instantly went into panic mode. what if he had told her about his past? his messy, shameful past that he hadn't told a soul about. how much of it did he tell her? charlie's hands instantly found their way to his sides, he patted the fabric on top of his pockets. the crumpled up letter was no longer there. oh boy, he must have really spilled everything. maybe you could... refresh my memory... charlie suggested quietly. what did celeste think of him now that she knew... however much of his life that she knew. charlie stood up from his chair as celeste told her bit. he started pacing around the kitchen fidgeting with his fingers nervously. well... i was drunk, charlie started to say suddenly. the things that could-a come out of my mouth... he forced a short laugh. i was just babblin' away y'know... he knew instantly that she wouldn't buy this whole notion that he was making things up, but he was panicking. charlie was perfectly capable of lying to people like the patrons of his bar and the death eaters and the like. but not celeste. someone who had given him no reason not to trust. celeste knew him better than that, and apparently had got to know him really well last night. he stopped mid-pacing and covered his face with his hands. it was all out now. she knew everything, he knew it. once charlie could come to terms with the whole fact that he had blabbered everything to celeste, the problem was whether or not he would take her advice. charlie was a far less stubborn man with alcohol in his system. ordinarily he was terribly difficult to convince, especially when he had put his mind to something. charlie was the auror who could not put a case down for the life of him until it was exhausted thoroughly and he literally had to be dragged away from it. but now this was not just some case for him. his parents and sister's deaths were personal, and therefore all the more difficult to drag him away from. he was hell bent on his master plan of revenge. it was going to get him killed certainly, but he was going to die trying. and in his own mind, sometimes he thought he was more invincible than he actually was. listening to celeste's advice was his only hope for going down a different path that wouldn't kill him, unless anyone else knew about his mad plan... but he was sure he wouldn't let that ever happen again. he would stay as far away from alcohol as he could at all costs.

tagged: celeste | outfit: clicky! | words: 565 | notes: mehh pooo

credit to kara of caution, shine, & atf.