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Here at the Leaky Cauldron things can get pretty busy, and, for Phro, this is exactly the case. For this purpose, she kept the changes made by Louisa so that customers may come to the counter to place their orders, which keeps the chaos down and keeps things less hectic for the busy workers and their customers.
In the center of the room sits the baby of the Leaky Cauldron - baby grand piano that is. It is not unusual to enter the Leaky Cauldron and see costumers playing away at the piano. However, this piano is widely special, even for the Wizarding World. Years ago, Ryoma Shiradou, the former owner, built it by hand and therefore as one plays each key the ivory gives off a little puff of colored smoke that rises up into the air and form shapes that begin to tell a story to the music.
Off to the side of the room, a cozy fireplace and seating area can be found for those looking to relax a bit before heading off to the busy shops of Diagon Alley. At various times throughout the day, Phro will come by and give Tarot card readings.
OOC: The piano is free for all to use so have fun with that and enjoy yourself. Also, please remember that the shopkeeper does NOT take orders at the tables. Due to the Leaky Cauldron being unmanned at the moment, simply assume that your character placed their order at the Bar and Service Counter.
And a very IMPORTANT warning. Please please PLEASE make sure you have read all SS rules - especially those involving drinking. There will be a zero tolerance policy in regards to this rule.
The Leaky Cauldron wasn't Florrie's usual port of call for lunch. She much preferred high-end establishments around other parts of London, or if she was particularly busy a solo latte as she continued working. But every couple of weeks she would make her way here, and sit with her latte and her mermaid salad and look thoroughly disinterested at everything that was happening around her.
Which, for the most part, was accurate. She was always observing the goings on, however, wondering if - no, when she would see or hear something that would make her invaluable in the trade. The trade of secrets and gossip. Tiny tidbits here and there were all well and good, but they weren't going to give her a column based on a relatively unknown Quidditch player maybe stepping out on his girlfriend, after all. So far, however, she didn't much need to fake the looking bored part.
Another day, another severe lack of interesting people present.
__________________
⇀ Standing now, calling all the people here to see the show_____________________________
Calling for my demons now to let me go ↽
Wizarding World Admin Minister for Magic DoM & MO Alley Proprietor
Poltergeist
Join Date: Aug 2010
Location: Etheria
Posts: 38,114
Hogwarts RPG Name: Atlas Flamsteed
Gryffindor
Sixth Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Mitsuki Rasting
Ravenclaw
Third Year
Ministry RPG Name:
Charles Hollingberry
Minister's Office
Ministry RPG Name:
Airey Flamsteed
Mysteries
Diagon Alley Employee:
Zachaël Lufkin
Owl Post
x12 x12
thought about tossing a cooper here but the name from a hat generator had other ideas
astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
Quote:
Originally Posted by Harron Peasley
The Leaky Cauldron wasn't Florrie's usual port of call for lunch. She much preferred high-end establishments around other parts of London, or if she was particularly busy a solo latte as she continued working. But every couple of weeks she would make her way here, and sit with her latte and her mermaid salad and look thoroughly disinterested at everything that was happening around her.
Which, for the most part, was accurate. She was always observing the goings on, however, wondering if - no, when she would see or hear something that would make her invaluable in the trade. The trade of secrets and gossip. Tiny tidbits here and there were all well and good, but they weren't going to give her a column based on a relatively unknown Quidditch player maybe stepping out on his girlfriend, after all. So far, however, she didn't much need to fake the looking bored part.
Another day, another severe lack of interesting people present.
Quaint, nostalgic, and dingy.
The Leaky Cauldron would forever be a time capsule of her youth and the shadow her younger self once cast. She could still see some scratches in the floorboards that she had left while chasing Harley around, the Dalmatian her dragon and she the warrior princess who needed no saving. She half wondered if the scorch marks were still in the kitchen from that one time she had tried to cook a porkchop or some other kind of meat and nearly set the entire place on fire. Her hidey hole beneath a loose floorboard in one of the guest rooms that had been her own castle at one point had most likely been mended by now. Sachiko never really enjoyed coming back here and yet each time business brought her back to the UK...here she was.
Nose wrinkling as she walked towards the counter to order, she did not try all that hard not to let her resentment show. To think that at one point it had even been hinted at that she take over this place was laughable. Just because it was her birth place did not mean it was her destiny. France, Paris, was far superior and her career as a very successful high fashion model was sooooooo much better than being some peasant of a bar maid.
Gross.
Still, she supposed she could afford to indulge in the flavor of her past and ordered a chicken and grape salad with a rice pudding (the latter being a comfort food from the past) and moved to find herself a seat. The seats themselves left much to be desired. "Do they have trolls cleaning this place?" she groaned with a hard eye roll as she patted her cherry red Saffiano leather with gold accents bag for a hand towel...or two...and lay them down on the seat to protect her assets. "Honestly.."
__________________
red, red desert, heal our blues; I dive deeper for you..............
what a blessing to feel your love; twilight promised me you......... all these moments with you...
The Leaky Cauldron would forever be a time capsule of her youth and the shadow her younger self once cast. She could still see some scratches in the floorboards that she had left while chasing Harley around, the Dalmatian her dragon and she the warrior princess who needed no saving. She half wondered if the scorch marks were still in the kitchen from that one time she had tried to cook a porkchop or some other kind of meat and nearly set the entire place on fire. Her hidey hole beneath a loose floorboard in one of the guest rooms that had been her own castle at one point had most likely been mended by now. Sachiko never really enjoyed coming back here and yet each time business brought her back to the UK...here she was.
Nose wrinkling as she walked towards the counter to order, she did not try all that hard not to let her resentment show. To think that at one point it had even been hinted at that she take over this place was laughable. Just because it was her birth place did not mean it was her destiny. France, Paris, was far superior and her career as a very successful high fashion model was sooooooo much better than being some peasant of a bar maid.
Gross.
Still, she supposed she could afford to indulge in the flavor of her past and ordered a chicken and grape salad with a rice pudding (the latter being a comfort food from the past) and moved to find herself a seat. The seats themselves left much to be desired. "Do they have trolls cleaning this place?" she groaned with a hard eye roll as she patted her cherry red Saffiano leather with gold accents bag for a hand towel...or two...and lay them down on the seat to protect her assets. "Honestly.."
Though, on saying there were a lack of interesting people present....
When Sachiko walked in, Florrie's brain stood to attention. Her manicured hand maintained the slow movement of pushing her salad around her plate, and her face remained impassive and uninterested, but something behind her eyes lit up. In the world Florrie lived, in the circles she orbited - always on the periphery, never quite making it inside - someone like Sachiko was the definition of interesting.
With celebrities - and models, in particular - Florrie harboured a strange resentment alongside her admiration. Jealous that someone literally got paid to look good, it was easy to ignore any work they had to do, especially given that they were paid to make it look effortless. And as she obsessively compared herself to those on the pages of the magazine she worked at, it was a feeling heightened when she met them in person.
Her eyebrow quirked upwards as she watched the supermodel put some towels down, mentally noting that a cleaning charm would have no doubt done a better job. It was Sachiko's remark about the staff that had her emitting a short laugh, though. Not because it was necessarily funny (but to ingratiate herself with someone like this, Florrie would pretend that they were the first comedian to grace the planet if that was what it took), but because she just looked so ridiculous in this setting. "I believe the trolls work in the kitchen, actually," she offered in response, finally pushing away the untouched salad.
It was a cruel and unnecessary comment, but Florrie was often reminded that she was a cruel and unnecessary woman.
__________________
⇀ Standing now, calling all the people here to see the show_____________________________
Calling for my demons now to let me go ↽
It so happened that today dawned one of those days in which Rachel was in an upbeat mood. It just might have been this mood that had gotten her throughout the day so far. She had insisted to Kyle that she was strong and determined enough to check in at St. Mungo’s for her check up. Persuasion had seen the husband eventually giving in and Rachel had gone about her business. So far, she had managed to get quite a bit of walking in which was good exercise, especially since she was nearing the end of her second pregnancy. After been given a clean bill of health at Mungo’s, the woman had made her way to the Leaky where she had placed a big order. Excuse her but she was eating for two hence the reason she felt ravenous.
While waiting on the order, the Herbologist had taken up residence at the seating area. On the arm of her chair, a notepad was balanced and she was busy scribbling some last minute baby items that she needed to purchase. On occasions, she would pause to daydream about returning to work at her parents’ exploration company. As much as she missed working with all the plants, it would have to wait for a bit longer.
It so happened that today dawned one of those days in which Rachel was in an upbeat mood. It just might have been this mood that had gotten her throughout the day so far. She had insisted to Kyle that she was strong and determined enough to check in at St. Mungo’s for her check up. Persuasion had seen the husband eventually giving in and Rachel had gone about her business. So far, she had managed to get quite a bit of walking in which was good exercise, especially since she was nearing the end of her second pregnancy. After been given a clean bill of health at Mungo’s, the woman had made her way to the Leaky where she had placed a big order. Excuse her but she was eating for two hence the reason she felt ravenous.
While waiting on the order, the Herbologist had taken up residence at the seating area. On the arm of her chair, a notepad was balanced and she was busy scribbling some last minute baby items that she needed to purchase. On occasions, she would pause to daydream about returning to work at her parents’ exploration company. As much as she missed working with all the plants, it would have to wait for a bit longer.
There were those in Diagon Alley who might have been under the impression that Kitty DuGrey Valentine had giving up on her goal of overturning the Statue of Secrecy. Those people could be forgiven for coming to this conclusion, even though it was wrong. After all, it had been nearly four years since anyone had seen the Goth woman standing at street corners holding anti-Statute and pro-Muggle street signs. This was what she had devoted many of her weekends in her early twenties doing, along with occasionally fending off accusations of being a Cult of Walpurgis member.
So why wasn't Kitty still protesting? Well, it's not that her conviction had changed. If anything, it had strengthened now that she was engaged. No, the real reason Kitty hadn't protested in years is because she was finishing her epic novel...a novel about a romance between a muggle and a witch. She hoped to convey her emotions on the subject in that novel.
She was writing in the Pub that very day when she chanced to glance up to gaze around at the other diners. It was at that moment she saw a face she hadn't seen in years. A face of a dear, dear friend. Her breath caught in her throat.
Slowly, the rather nerdy looking Goth lady stood up and approached the person, just to be certain.
It so happened that today dawned one of those days in which Rachel was in an upbeat mood. It just might have been this mood that had gotten her throughout the day so far. She had insisted to Kyle that she was strong and determined enough to check in at St. Mungo’s for her check up. Persuasion had seen the husband eventually giving in and Rachel had gone about her business. So far, she had managed to get quite a bit of walking in which was good exercise, especially since she was nearing the end of her second pregnancy. After been given a clean bill of health at Mungo’s, the woman had made her way to the Leaky where she had placed a big order. Excuse her but she was eating for two hence the reason she felt ravenous.
While waiting on the order, the Herbologist had taken up residence at the seating area. On the arm of her chair, a notepad was balanced and she was busy scribbling some last minute baby items that she needed to purchase. On occasions, she would pause to daydream about returning to work at her parents’ exploration company. As much as she missed working with all the plants, it would have to wait for a bit longer.
There were those in Diagon Alley who might have been under the impression that Kitty DuGrey Valentine had giving up on her goal of overturning the Statue of Secrecy. Those people could be forgiven for coming to this conclusion, even though it was wrong. After all, it had been nearly four years since anyone had seen the Goth woman standing at street corners holding anti-Statute and pro-Muggle street signs. This was what she had devoted many of her weekends in her early twenties doing, along with occasionally fending off accusations of being a Cult of Walpurgis member.
So why wasn't Kitty still protesting? Well, it's not that her conviction had changed. If anything, it had strengthened now that she was engaged. No, the real reason Kitty hadn't protested in years is because she was finishing her epic novel...a novel about a romance between a muggle and a witch. She hoped to convey her emotions on the subject in that novel.
She was writing in the Pub that very day when she chanced to glance up to gaze around at the other diners. It was at that moment she saw a face she hadn't seen in years. A face of a dear, dear friend. Her breath caught in her throat.
Slowly, the rather nerdy looking Goth lady stood up and approached the person, just to be certain.
"Ra-Rachel?"
Rachel had seen the woman - the outfit, the makeup - they were all that was needed to tell anyone the woman was goth. Had she not been so lost in her own daydreams, which had now involved her dive in the Mediterranean Sea for a few magical plants. Those were good times; such good times. Rachel absently rubbed at her extended belly. There was high hope on her part that baby number two would be an avid plant lover like she was. Things would be just fine if he/she/they turned out just like their father instead.
“Hmm?” Rachel questioned absently. Her gaze went to the woman before her and for a moment, the Herbologist stared blankly. Then she really looked and really registered those features. There was a small squeal from her not too long after. “Kitty!” She really wanted to jump to her feet and give her friend a hug but that was completely and utterly out of the question when one was almost popping. Heck, she was struggling to get to her feet. Like really struggling.
In the end she gave up with an embarrassed chuckle. “I’ve missed you,’’ Rachel remarked honestly, holding out a hand towards her friend.
Pub Seating 
x3
x12
