Everyday's a good day for some coffee.

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Everyday's a good day for some coffee.

Post by ADMIN JACK on Thu May 12, 2011 3:54 pm

(Basing this from the previous MoM)

Knockturn alley--such a dodgy place for anyone to be in, anyone innocent that is. Most who dwell in these parts mostly do describe these parts well. Con-artists, murderers, practitioners of the dark arts and frankly speaking, people who need to take showers every once in awhile. Yes, Knockturn is known for all of these things but it's also known for the dark objects and potion ingredients worthy for the black market scene that might be lurking under the shade of any closed doors.

Now why would a mere fifteen year old dare to dwell in these parts?

Perhaps it was her upbringing, her past, her profound knowledge around these parts that made it hard for her to not come back again and again. A fugitive from her own home she was no longer and surprisingly she did not really feel as content as she would have hoped for. There was a feeling of melancholy, emptiness, void of feelings that involved empathy, sympathy, guilt--all the sorts. Although she had to admit to herself though, if it weren't for Lessandro and his brother's help all of this would not have been possible. Therefore she considered herself in debt till the time arrives when she can pay back.

Elizabeth was currently inside a rather dreary coffee place, to get through here you have to head through narrow corridors, heaps of lefts and rights, you get the idea. Somehow the cafe made her comfortable, something you would not really expect from anyone if you yourself saw the place but hey, the coffee was cheap, the barista was another person that reminded her of Mortimer, also known as Marty at her own pub. Should she have known about this place at the time when she was a fugitive from her own home, she would have just stayed here.

The young lass was currently seated near the entrance, just to see people passing by, hoping that her good friend Olivia would be able to understand the directions she had given her through owl. A subtle smile escaped from her lips as she thought about the news she would be informing her friend about, wondering about how Ollie would react but then she already knew it would be something positive.

She wondered how her friend was doing over the past month that they haven't seen each other, was she still the same Ollie she used to know? Elizabeth had certainly changed, no longer was she looking like a street child, to be honest, she did look a lot healthier, and she changed her hair back to black, thinking red would cause too much attention. The Daily Prophet had the missing Wizards and Witches list out and about and her parents were in that list. She didn't want any of them to be anywhere near her. Besides, the less they know, the better and should they try to pursue her which was highly unlikely, they should be ready to draw their wands.

A chime of the entrance door made her look up, her trail of thought vanished evidently as her  eyes directly looked at the person who went in but to her disappointment turned out to be a man in his fifties. Men. Such putrid beings.


A small sigh escaped her lips as she saw the man walk past, rolling her eyes and casually asking herself, "Liv, where are you?" She better not get lost, finding her would take her ages and getting back to this cafe wouldn't exactly be easy.


Last edited by ADMIN JACKIE on Sun Mar 09, 2014 9:15 am; edited 3 times in total

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Re: Everyday's a good day for some coffee.

Post by Guest on Thu May 12, 2011 4:53 pm

Get your lazy ass up. Olivia tempted herself. Get up and see the friend you haven’t seen in ages. The blonde attempted urge herself. get up before someone shoots her or your retarded ass before the sun goes down. Anyone would know that Olivia was never a morning girl. Or anyone close as it seemed. The girl groaned, a breath of provocation escaping her chapped lips. The girl had decided to return home for a few weeks, with the excuse of a minor bipolar disorder diagnose. Dumbledore, lapping everything up like a stray puppy and Olivia, with her talented acting skills; had earned herself some time away from school, much to her parent’s annoyance.

She didn’t mean to cause exasperation towards them. No, nothing at that. Actually that was a lie. Olivia lived on displeasing her parents. After sixteen years of abandonment inside her little room with the pink canopy and French lace curtains, sixteen lifetimes of being a bird in a cage, the young lady was ready to strike back. It was the fifth day of her discharge from hospital with her faked mental illness. Honestly, Olivia herself knew something was up with her. Why in the name of god would anyone fake a serious illness for the fun of it? She knew that she had anger issues, she was cynical but that was just the outline of her personality. She knew that starving yourself and calorie counting was bad and yet she couldn’t control her depraved actions and she knew that it was debauching to think ill of life itself but the girl could accept that. And why she was pretending that she had an extra ailment was beyond her years.

The girl rolled onto the floor, a jungle of duvets and skin against the dark brown floorboards. The house was immensely quiet, so quiet you could hear the sycamore trees outside spread their wings against a late spring breeze. The Marriot household, however etiquette it was, was never a quiet place. “Mother? Father? Cass?” Olivia called out from her position on the floor, her tumble of dirty blonde hair coiling around her cheeks. She thought again. Maybe they were out? “Oh Fuck this fucking shit I can’t believe I just fucked a fucking hobo with shit on his cheek!” The teenager screamed out, her attentive ears curled and her thin lips pressed against each other like fingertips against a pearly neck..
No reply.

“Well I guess this is my cue for a good old sneak out.” Muttering to herself, the girl propped herself up, dusting little particles of her room off from the white night dress she wore. A full length ornate mirror hung opposite her and for the first time in several days, Liv caught a glimpse of her reflection. And to be honest, it was fucking horrible.

Her permanently dyed hair hung limp and frizzled, her skin pale and pasty. Whilst not dry, it was lacking in colour as well as shine. Her bones were poking out from her dress, like budding wings against the fine silk fabric. The girl made a face, her chipped lips spreading apart like sand between fingers. How awful. Shaking her head, irked with her lack of appearance, the girl hollered over to the bathroom, rooting through expensive ointments in the cabinet. Her mother would kill her, but what else was new?

It had taken the girl half an hour to get ready, pretty good compared to the usual hour or two before partying. Not that she was going on a party. Half way through a bath, the girl remembered a little meet-up with her friend, Elizabeth. A prestigious name like Elizabeth lived alone, as far as Olivia knew. A drop-out at that. Something that sounded thrilling, emotionally tragic and ever so dangerous all in one.

The Marriot estate wasn’t really an estate of some sort. It was a moderate apartment. A few months ago, Lionel had lost his job after lack of performance, something which Olivia couldn’t understand especially along the lines of how her devoted daddy could lose such a thing. Until she realised it could be linked to old ties with a great man from the past, and that was when the girl seemed dissatisfied with her family, and how disgruntle they really were. Now, the family of four resided in a council flat, small yet filled to the brim with old family heritage garbage. Why they didn’t sell it and rent out a much nicer place was beyond Olivia, but it was better than nothing.

Another bonus, was how close it was to close to Knockturn. Dingy, yes, unpleasant and unhygienic but a great atmosphere for a girl like Olivia. Slipping her feet into black flat pumps, the girl scrunched the door closed, glowering at the creaking hinges. Spacious and in good shaped apartments with no flaws my ass. she thought bitterly to herself.

By the time she had arrived at the coffee shop, she was running a tad late. The sun was now up, and it was ever so hard to rise from her slumber according to such cultivations. Shredding her jeans and black jackets for denim shorts and off shoulder tees, it was nice for a change. She girl smirked, bright red painted lips like of a geisha strung on a milky mask. She couldn’t deny her excitement, but she couldn’t deny that she’d much rather be in bed.

The tinkling rusted bell sent a wave throughout the shops, several customers glancing up, but with no interest of who Olivia was or what was her business. She was in a café after all. The bloke who owned the place was a friend of her fathers, and he sometimes offered her free coffees. It was hard at first, spotting Liz. In her mind, Elizabeth had orange tresses the colour of Satan’s breath. Now, it was a sea of blondes and brunettes, one black haired girl sitting alone. Liz.

Smiling lightly, the girl made a bee-line towards the table. Her steps were light yet determined, a purpose of dominance. “Hello Liz. Nice here, have to say.” Olivia nodded, before dragging the girl into a tight hug.


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Re: Everyday's a good day for some coffee.

Post by ADMIN JACK on Thu May 12, 2011 6:52 pm

The clock was ticking and so was the inner time-bomb within Liz. She was never really the patient type, hardly ever and these people silently chatting away, some giving her odd glances probably asking themselves why such a young child would be this deep within Knockturn Alley are seriously making her waiting period not be all that pleasant.

Gently tapping her fingers against the table, Elizabeth inspected what was on it, her mochaccino barely touched with a half eaten chocolate chip cookie. How quaint. She got her small purse bag out, something she had managed to buy through all that hard work at the pub and took out her handkerchief, dabbing her mouth and settling it aside.

Now truth be told, she could have had this meeting arranged a lot later, perhaps somewhere along the lines of noon but if anything, Elizabeth just wanted the company of a good friend. Someone she wanted to catch up with before everything just falls into place. There has to be a lot of planning involved with what she's planning on doing, but who else can she talk about this other than her best friend? Speaking of which, after this whole time of not having to confide on her, should she trust her with the crimes she has committed? Should she, Elizabeth Lyonheart, trust Olivia Mariott with her life?

Hmm... Why not. What's the worse that can happen?

It's been settled; she'll tell her everything's that had happened over their time apart.

The girl took a deep sigh as she held on to her cup tightly, the voices of the other people chattering away were starting to make her head boil. If only she can just snap at them just as she usually does with the regulars at her pub, but this is obviously a different setting, a setting she had no control nor power over so that wasn't exactly her call.

Elizabeth examined those around her, which made her notice two things: one, she realized that this joint was full of middle aged ladies and gents that didn't exactly look too better off, dress robes didn't look as flashy, nor did their shoes and two, they act like they were better off in a prison cell, talking in hushed voices, looking around their surroundings cautiously as though they're expecting some raid to show up. She could have just scoffed right now. Oh well, it was none of her business anyway so she just left it at that. She was supposed to be wearing a robe herself, she used to do it a lot now a days, given that adults usually wear them instead but she thought it would have been a better way to blend in, just to avoid questions from normal wizards and witches and authority figures, not that she had encountered any but since she was meeting an old friend, she thought a plain white shirt with a denim jacket and pants sufficed for the occasion, chic, subtle and not that hard to notice.

The barista who also served for the customers approached the young lass and asked her if everything was alright, to her amusement, not only did this guy look like Marty, he smelled like him too. With that husky stench man plaguing possibly on his loins, this stench would have been enough to scare any woman away but to Liz this was bearable.

"Yes everything's fine. My friend is just taking her time in getting here, that's all." The look Elizabeth gave the man lingered, it was saying 'look you're sweet and all but bother me again and I just might rip off your testicles and give them to your wife and kids as a present for Christmas'. Needless to say, the man just gave her a curt nod before turning back to his station safe and sound--lucky him.

She huffed. Now where in the bloody world is Ollie? She should have been here by now--unless she's still the same girl who hated mornings and took her time dollying herself up--this had somehow put Elizabeth to ease as she leaned back on her chair. With another chime of the bell, Elizabeth eyes lit up as she tried to see who was there, but just managed to catch a blonde girl--she was about to roll her eyes and turn around but what the girl said caught her off-guard. Like big time.

“Hello Liz. Nice here, have to say.”

"Indeed--it is such a quaint cafe, such a beautiful treasure unknown to the outside world could be such a waste.." Elizabeth inspected the girl, the thought of her being Olivia not having occurred to her just yet, but when it did, it hit her hard like a pile of bricks. "Oh my god, Ollie! You scared the shit out of me! I didn't recognize you! Hell why on Earth was I being so civil!" Actually cracking up a grin in what seemed to be forever, Elizabeth now fully welcomed the hug and returned it right back. "How the hell have you been? You look good with your hair right now by the way."

All worries just seemed to fade when she was around her dear friend, and she liked it that way.

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