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Post by etiennebeaulieu on Feb 13, 2012 19:08:02 GMT -5
"I'll have a Merlot." murmured Étienne as he lowered himself onto the bar stool.
Chuckling loudly, the bartender replied in a gruff, mocking tone.
"So is that french for butterbeer or firewhiskey?"
"Fine," he answered curtly, "I'll have a firewhiskey."
Resting his elbows on the table, he rested his head in his rough hands,passing his fingers through his hair. Silently, he began muttering nonsense about uncultured and boring Englishmen. His accent gave him away like a bold-printed label on his forehead, indicating to the world he was from France and therefore embodied every stereotype of some mustached artist in a beret wielding baguettes with random bursts of HONHON! Wand in french is baguette so some of that was true. He had yet to master a rough and throaty, filled with sexual innuendo HONHONHON! to maintain the image.
As his drink appeared before him, he took a deep gulp, swallowing the strong liquid with some difficulty, immediately pushing it aside. It did not fit his tastes and he felt a sudden pang of loneliness in this godforsaken country. What he needed was a dry, aged table wine and a hunk of roquefort. Then, his homesickness may yet be appeased. Sighing heavily, he touched his lips to the glass once more, this time taking a small, tentative sip. For some obscure reason it was just as disgusting as the first. Of course, there was no way he could have seen that one coming! Bitterness emanated from his profound frustration at his still unproductive mission. Why would deatheaters be so difficult to find when they were in power?
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Post by sonja on Feb 22, 2012 17:15:58 GMT -5
So far the only thing she had found in England, much to her annoyance, was chaos. It was as if the English had completely lost the ability to function properly or even take care of their own state of affairs, and laziness like that warranted no excuse.
An irate expression on her face, Sonja entered the nearest bar. Sick of London, she had begun enquiring as to where a suitable place to relax would be for someone of her immediate... calibre, and she had been pointed to the dismal little town of Hogsmeade, overlooked by the towering castle that she had been lead to identify as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Still, even though she was no longer in England (technically), the shadow of the new threat still loomed over the small town. If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were allowed to continue, Sonja knew it would only be a matter of time before he invaded her beloved Germany as well.
The bar was relatively well populated, but Sonja, who was not interested in conversation, did not loiter at the doorway, instead proceeding straight to the bar itself, where she proceeded to order the first (and strongest) thing they had before sitting herself on one of the stools. Hopefully no one would bother her here.
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Post by etiennebeaulieu on Feb 29, 2012 19:46:57 GMT -5
"Zis one's on me." Étienne said smoothly, smiling at the blonde beauty that had just taken her place beside him. I'll 'ave what she's 'aving."
While maintaining an incredibly irritated expression, it barely took away from the beauty of her features. Her accent was not quite British, but he could not place it. Nevertheless, the vivid blue of her eyes entranced him. Étienne had always had a soft spot for blondes. A romantic at heart, any woman with a meager amount of beauty could easily send his heart racing.
Receiving a dangerously strong smelling drink, he brought it casually to his lips. The effect was instant. His throat, his lungs, his entire system was on fire. Choking violently, he fell off the bar stool, wheezing in pain.
"De l'eau! Je vous prie, de l'eau!" He managed to wheeze. "Merde! MERDE!" he began cussing, making quite the scene. "Toussaints! Que m'avez-vous donnés?"
It was poison, he'd been discovered, and they were poisoning him. That meant... Swiftly grabbing the girl's drink he threw it to the floor in a shattering of glass and a splash of the vile liquid. He'd taken a sip, was that enough? Would he die? He was dying. How had they discovered him? How had he blown his cover?
*In order, what he says in French: "Water! I pray you, water!", "Shit! SHIT!" and finally "All saints, what have you given me?"
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