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sweetpinkpixie · 07-27-2019, 02:02 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by nicole black

He was the only person his age without an owl or bird of some kind to deliver this or that, and Quentin was quite fine with it. He liked walking to the post office, he liked picking up his mail every morning, and he liked the distinct lack of bird droppings in his new flat.

It helped matters that his own shop was not at all far from the post office, and so, on his way in and out he could peek right in without fuss. With a fresh copy of a muggle newspaper underarm and a small bag of mini bagels (for himself and Natalie if she cared to partake) in hand, Quentin stepped into the post office and right up to the counter. With a small, irony-filled grin, Quentin bopped the little silver bell and awaited the clerk.

Still settling in to the change of scenery, Zachaël was spending any time not serving customers in the back taking inventory. There was much covered in thick layers of dust and other substances he cared not know of origin. All he knew was that cleaning charms were proving to be minimal in effect, Madame Glossy's Silver Polish required several coats, Winky Crockett's Elbow Grease required real elbow grease, Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover was almost feeling more like a mess maker, he had a stack of rags nearly as tall as himself to wash and dry at the end of the day, and several boxes of donations to the junk shop. Perhaps some things could be re-purposed, but mostly he never wanted to lay his icy blues on the likes of any of this ever again.

Hearing the chime of the bell, Herjenmie gave an affectionate nip and tug on one of the shopkeeper's curls before accosting his earlobe a bit. "Sheesh, Herjenmie. I heard it. I swear," the man chuckled at the owl before making an honest, but in vain, attempt to dry his hands on a rag and remove some of the blackness from his finger tips. He had been attempting to clean up a several ink well spill in one of the cabinet drawers.

Grabbing a crimson towel and slinging it over his shoulder just so, Zachaël gave his shoulder a pat to invite the eagle owl to perch on his shoulder while he tended to their latest customer - to which the owl flew over gladly in his wobbly flight pattern.

"Salutations," he greeted as he stepped through the fabric divider between the backroom and the front desk - Herjenmie's talons flexing and unflexing on his shoulder while giving a bit of a feathery wiggle. "What can I do you for today?"

07-27-2019, 02:02 AM	#6 (permalink)
sweetpinkpixie SSRPG Admin Gladrags Mod Quibbler Mod Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor Sea Serpent Join Date: Aug 2010 Location: The Paths Posts: 41,138 Hogwarts RPG Name: Professor Cox Ravenclaw Graduated Hogwarts RPG Name: Briallen Ashburry-Hawthorne Gryffindor Fourth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden Hufflepuff Fifth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden Ravenclaw Fifth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Calliope Barrington Slytherin Fourth Year Ministry Department Head: Charles Hollingberry Minister's Office Ministry Department Head: Airey Flamsteed Mysteries Diagon Alley Proprietor: Victor García Massey Ollivanders x12 x12	astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK \| & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf Quote: Originally Posted by nicole black He was the only person his age without an owl or bird of some kind to deliver this or that, and Quentin was quite fine with it. He liked walking to the post office, he liked picking up his mail every morning, and he liked the distinct lack of bird droppings in his new flat. It helped matters that his own shop was not at all far from the post office, and so, on his way in and out he could peek right in without fuss. With a fresh copy of a muggle newspaper underarm and a small bag of mini bagels (for himself and Natalie if she cared to partake) in hand, Quentin stepped into the post office and right up to the counter. With a small, irony-filled grin, Quentin bopped the little silver bell and awaited the clerk. Still settling in to the change of scenery, Zachaël was spending any time not serving customers in the back taking inventory. There was much covered in thick layers of dust and other substances he cared not know of origin. All he knew was that cleaning charms were proving to be minimal in effect, Madame Glossy's Silver Polish required several coats, Winky Crockett's Elbow Grease required real elbow grease, Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover was almost feeling more like a mess maker, he had a stack of rags nearly as tall as himself to wash and dry at the end of the day, and several boxes of donations to the junk shop. Perhaps some things could be re-purposed, but mostly he never wanted to lay his icy blues on the likes of any of this ever again. Hearing the chime of the bell, Herjenmie gave an affectionate nip and tug on one of the shopkeeper's curls before accosting his earlobe a bit. "Sheesh, Herjenmie. I heard it. I swear," the man chuckled at the owl before making an honest, but in vain, attempt to dry his hands on a rag and remove some of the blackness from his finger tips. He had been attempting to clean up a several ink well spill in one of the cabinet drawers. Grabbing a crimson towel and slinging it over his shoulder just so, Zachaël gave his shoulder a pat to invite the eagle owl to perch on his shoulder while he tended to their latest customer - to which the owl flew over gladly in his wobbly flight pattern. "Salutations," he greeted as he stepped through the fabric divider between the backroom and the front desk - Herjenmie's talons flexing and unflexing on his shoulder while giving a bit of a feathery wiggle. "What can I do you for today?" __________________ We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back......................................... But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass..................................... The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like