| Bad Customer | |
|---|---|
| IC Date | August 7th, 1935 |
| OOC Date | January 7th, 2012 |
| Location | Central London — Leicester — Leaky Cauldron |
| Cast | Amos Elly |
| Description | Elly deals with the Merrick siblings. |
Setting: Central London — Leicester — Leaky Cauldron
This cramped, angular room is the taproom of the Leaky Cauldron. A long bar runs along one side of the room, plain wooden stools set out before it. Smoke from pipes and candles fills the air. The patrons of this curious little bar, many of them elderly, sit hunched over their mugs at the tables. Waitresses bustle back and forth bearing trays of food and mugs of ale. Many of the people seem strangely out of place, dressed in cloaks and floppy hats, it almost seems as if you've stumbled into another century. Notably absent is any modern muggle devices or electric lighting, or any sign of electricity at all. Still, the occasional muggle does find their way in here, usually declaring it to be 'quaint' and 'atmospheric'.
Characters
Elly is bustling about the pub, a tray sloshing with drinks of all different sorts and sizes above her head, but never does one actually spill a drop. She clunks three mugs at once to a table full of goblins and as she's stepping away squeaks and jumps a bit and spins around to playfully swat at a goblin that has a wide sleazy grin. "Coo now you, watch them long fingers aay." Her cockney is light and lilting and musical as she chides and the rest of the goblins snicker and chortle as she bustles away. "'Ello dearie!" She greets the new entrant to the pub. "Take any seat ye like an' I'll be righ' wif yas."
New entrants, plural, actually: a middle-aged blond man in a conservative muggle suit, accompanied by a woman (also blonde, and similar enough to the man in appearance that they must surely be related) some ten years his junior, wearing the sort of asymmetrical robes favored by the more avant guarde of young wizardry. The woman eyes the goblins with unbridled disdain, even as the man nudges her towards the table with a polite nod to Elly.
"I don't know why you wanted to eat /here/," Aella Merrick grouses to her brother, eyeing the atmospheric interior with no trace of proper English sentimentality on her face. Amos gives his sibling an indulgent smile, even as he pulls her chair out for her. "The food's good, idin't?" he points out, the casual atmosphere bringing out the Yorkshire accent he usually carefully dampens.
Elly has a warm cheery smiles, eyes shining like a clear summer day as she comes up to the table. "Best food." She affirms in her musical thick bit of Cockney. "What can I get for ye two loverlies?"
"A rum for me and a piece of cottage pie for me, miss, and thank you," Amos supplies, before shooting a questioning glance to Aella. The witch eyes him dourly, before crisply telling Elly, "Crumpets, please. I /hope/ you have acceptable tea here; if you do, I'll take that." Amos takes advantage of the young woman's distraction to shoot Elly a resignedly apologetic look: this is clearly something he deals with on a routine basis.
Elly deals with it as well it would seem as the witches bad attitude rolls off of the wench like water from a duck. "Right away miss." The smile she returns to Amos is one of genuine warmth. It doesn't bother her one bit. Elly knows they have superb tea and their crumpets are light and fluffy and delicious. "I'll get ye those treats right away."
"Thank you, miss." Amos is clearly the NICE sibling. And Aella is the… special one. The moment she deems Elly to be finished with them, the other woman is dismissed altogether from her thoughts, in favor of restlessly tapping her blood red fingernails on the tabletop, hazel eyes flicking hither and yon. Amos waits, patient, though his brows begin to beetle in concern as his lunch companion drags her odd, wordless act out.
When she finally opens her mouth to speak, it's a relief so blatant to him that he might as well have written it in electric lights above his head. It doesn't last, though, as Aella says, "Mother sends her regards." Amos's face, heretofore pleasant if a little reserved, goes stony. "Nothing /she'd/ be wanting you to say to me should be repeated here, I'm well certain." His sibling shoots him a dark stare. "Then WHY," she demands, loudly, "are we in this AWFUL little place?"
One could hear a pin drop very suddenly after Aella's little tantrum. Many eyes are on the sibling's table, if looks could kill Amos would certainly be one less sister. The continuation of the woman's opinion of her home has Elly within the kitchen sorting through some potions that are in a cupboard that is labeled "Bad Customer". "Boils…no…ton tongue…no…hiccupitis…no…ahhh…whistling boggie…perfect!" She murmurs as she picks through the jars, vials, and potion pots. Just a few drops of the tasteless potion into Aella's Tea pot and when the woman drinks and inhales the scrumptious tea's steam she will gradually develop the most annoying malady of having a whistling sound of taken breath in or out through her nose vibrating through a dry crop of bogies and if she does do the unlady like thing and picks at her nose, the sound only becomes worse. It will only last six hours before finally fading away. Amos gets the best rum in the house for the same cost as the cheapest stuff. He certainly deserves a stiff drink for putting up with his sister. With the same shining warmth she brings the order to the siblings' table. "Here we are." She gestures to the few small vessels filled with a tiny ball of homemade flavored butter for Aella's crumpets. "Honey Butter, Apple Butter, Lavender Butter, Regular Fresh Butter." She gives a little curtsy after his warm cottage pie is set down before Amos. "Get ye anything else?"
This can't be the first time Aella has put up such a public performance. See, as evidence, that Amos bears the stares of all and sundry with a blank face so perfect a picture of it could go into the Encyclopedia Britannica under stress, Fig. 3b, 'example of stoicism'. "Aella, lass," he murmurs, even his quiet pitch carrying in the embarrassingly silent pub, "let's please just eat. We can talk back at my flat, right?" The woman flushes scarlet with rage, but any further comments are checked by a brief pat on the hand coupled with a quietly warning look. She sinks silently into her chair, like a petulant child. Amos only then deigns to give the rest of the pub a glance - show's over, folks, move along.
Elly's reappearance is met with a smile, reserved but scrumptiously polite. "Thank you, miss, this looks delicious." He pauses before starting to eat, to inquire, "I'd like to take something home for the wife. Any recommendations?" Across the table Aella starts in on her tea, unaware of the humiliating doom that is about to befall her.
Elly's warm smile widens just slightly as Aella takes her first sip of her tea. But her attention focuses on the more pleasant of the two. "Our pasties are scrumptious and travel well. So it's a matter of her favored filling, Bird, Beef, Seafood, or Pork dearie?"
Amos's eyebrows lift, also just slightly, at that smile. Curious. There's a quarter-second's glance sisterward - Aella, despite all evidence suggesting she doesn't deserve the title in the deepest sense of the word, handles her tea like a well-bred lady - before Amos refocuses on Elly, expression still unfailingly polite. "Ah - well, not seafood, for sure. Maybe one of the bird and one of the beef." He slips the tinnnniest glance sisterward again. "It's always good to stick on the wife's good side, idin't?" He pauses to take a sip of his drink, and his heavy brow lifts in surprised approval.
Elly curtsies again before bustling off. Returning several minutes later to set down the to-go container with the ordered pasties and on top of the cauldron shaped container she's put a cauldron cake decorated around the mouth of the pot shaped cake with sugared flowers. The bill is also slid next to the container, the cake is not to be found on the bill.
In the meantime, the Merricks have been having their lunch. And now certain strange effects are beginning. "I'm /sure/ she put something in it," Aella is hissing to her brother, one hand gingerly covering her nose in an attempt to muffle the sound. "Don't be silly," Amos placates, "I'm sure you're just coming down with something." "What would /you/ know?" is the sharp (whistley) retort. "I ought to hex her for this -"
The arrival of the bill earns Elly two different looks: undisguised suspicion and loathing from the one, muted suspicion mingled with silent empathy from the other. Amos is quick on the draw to lay the payment down, including quite generous tip. "Thank you, miss, that was lovely," he comments in passing, even as he starts ushering his sibling out. "No it -" pfffwoo, pffwooooo "- wasn't," is Aella's loud retort.
Elly looks completely sympathetic down at Aella. "I'm very sorry ye feel that way. Your business will be missed. I'm sure Flooing to Diagon Alley would suit you much better from here on." Between the lines <You're not welcomed back through here, this AWEFUL place.> However a completely genuine smile is given to Amos. "Hope to see ye back here, bring the missus I'll whip up something nice and romantic. Have a wonderful day." Then to Aella, "I hope you're feeling better soon. Colds are dreadful things."
"… I think next time, Aella, we'll lunch at my flat." Food parcel tucked carefully under his arm, Amos holds the door open for his sibling, who stalks out, a faint flush of rage on her cheeks. Her brother pauses only to mouth 'Sorry about that' to Elly, before he hurries after her.