|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jun 23, 2015 0:42:47 GMT -5
Starting over would never be an easy task, but this? Everything about her being a professor was completely different from the life she left behind in Germany aside from the fact that she was still "giving orders." These "orders," though, were much more simple, more innocent. No harm would come from Nixie assigning her students thirty pages of reading to do in a single evening or teaching them how to properly tie a rope into a knot twice as secure as hands could make with a simple, light flick of their wand. The question was, though, if she was living such a more simple lifestyle, why was it still do very difficult for her? Was it the shell shock she suffered from at the clatter of a cauldron hitting the floor in the Potions room across the hall from her classroom? Perhaps it was the sudden movements some of the students would make that would make her completely paranoid for an oncoming attack and tense in her seat. It shouldn't be this way... But it was.
She was craving something to take the edge off. Her emotions were already numbed from the war and the horrible things she was forced to do, but her senses needed to be dulled down a bit as well. So long as she was still seeing flashes of red and hearing bombs exploding out of nowhere, she would truly remain miserable. It was sad, really, that after four years of being away from it and in an entirely new country, she still had these problems. It worried her that they might never go away, but then again, did she deserve for them to? After all the wrong she'd done?
Settling down at the bar titled "The Underground," she submerged herself in a completely new atmosphere. This was her very first visit to the establishment, so it was almost overwhelming to see all of the new faces and objects and lights hidden behind the front door. But she shrugged these off for now and looked to the bartender with a half-smile... If it could even be considered that. "A double shot of moonshine, please. Straight up," she requested.
|
|
Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
Offline
|
Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 23, 2015 1:41:42 GMT -5
It had been a night from hell, the feds were getting tougher and people were getting desperate. A shipment of moonshine had been intercepted by government agencies. Thankfully the driver had esca0ed, so no information had been gained. It was still making Fin uneasy, and uncertain of how they could keep the smuggling business up. Shaking his head, Fin rubbed his face, and closed his eyes. This night just needed end.
However that thought was cut short by a woman's accented voice. Sighing, he dropped his hands, and smiled. "Evenin' lass. Double shot of shine. Right up." Pouring the drink, Fin set it down in front of her. Fin raised an eyebrow, then moved back over to where the woman was. "Pardon, but I can't say I've seen you around here before... first time?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Heath Mulligan on Jun 23, 2015 9:07:50 GMT -5
With a loud, tired, and annoyed sigh, Heath passed through the doors of the Underground with Joey at his side. It was another day, and another day simply meant another opportunity for business. No matter how much he didn't want to return to the damn Irish speak-easy, he knee that some of his best clients were almost always drowning themselves at the bar. In a way, he pitied them...because to him, a life spent living doing nothing besides getting shitfaced drunk was extremely pathetic. Heath loved a beer now and and again, and had Bian fair share of drunken stupor stories, but he also prided himself on being professional and responsible at all times. Even if he didn't like doing it all the time...he did it for his family, because at the end of the day, all he really wanted to see was the O'Brien clan prevail through anything.
He gazed the room with a stoic expression, though beingsure to keep a weary out for the prostitute he had fucked the night before. Heath practically scoffed with disgust at himself as he made his way across the length of the room, Joey's footsteps following behind him at a lengthy distance. What had gotten into him last night? It wasn't like he had been desperate for a fuck...no, it wasn't that. He never had troubles finding some lonely, pathetic girl to sleep with if he was in one of those moods. Heath then stopped in his tracks, turning towards the bar itself. But, if it wasn't desperation, what the fuck was it?
Squinting his eyes a bit, he made out a tall man with short brown hair and recognizable face standing behind the bar itself, his hands busy mixing and pouring drinks. He smiled then, realizing that it was his cousin, Finley. It had been far too long since he had seen him, and if Heath was to ever regret something, he wouldn't have minded speaking vocally about his regret of not seeing his family enough....especially Fin. Fin has always had his back in trying times and of those of peril, and for that, Heath was grateful.
With a wide-set smile on his face, he quickly strolled up to the bar, leaning his arm against the counter. "Well, look who it fuckin' is," He laughed, giving his cousin a rich smile. "How have you been, man? Mind if I sit here?" Heath motioned to the bar stool in front of him, then quickly plopped down. He then turned his head to motion to Joey, and Joey nodded, simply walling back towards the side of the room without a word.
Sighing once more, he patted the countertop asking Fin for a glass of lager then finally turned to notice the woman sitting to his left. His eyebrows raised, realizing just how attractive she was, then reached a hand out to her, shooting a trademark smile in the process.
"Didn't realize Fin had a girl. Name's Heath Mulligan, and it's a pleasure to meet you."
|
|
|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jun 23, 2015 15:59:30 GMT -5
Thankfully, the man was able to understand her. Even after three years in the United States and having been taught English since she was eleven, it was still difficult for her to push out her native sound I'm order to adopt one more suitable to the language she was currently using. But the man before her seemed to understand her just fine, so she received her glass in a matter of seconds. Even he had an accent of his own, which she picked up on and could only assume was Irish. Though, she figured it was suiting seeing as the bar was literally crawling with Irishmen - most of them drunk out of their minds.
She raised the glass to her lips and threw her head back, dropping the liquid down the hatch that was her throat in one solid swig. No chaser. No sour expression of disgust. The war had been filled with hundreds of drunken occasions - not that they needed an occasion yo get drunk. It was a nightly occurrence, really.
But just as she set the glass back down on the counter, the bartender addressed her once again to inquire if she was new to the area. She wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to tell the man she had just moved here, but she figured if she lied, her lack of knowledge about the town would give her away immediately. "I am new," she told him with a light nod, accent shining through like always. "Just move here last week. First time in bar." Okay, so she left words out sometimes... The German-English language transition was a bit of a nightmare for her still.
Before she knew it, though, there was a loud and excitable voice booming through the air that caused her to visibly jump. Her head whirled to the side to see what was going on, but she slowly began to release the tension in her muscles once she realized the man wasn't a threat. Her heart was still racing in her chest, but she was at least composed again. Apparently the two men knew each other, but she tried to mind her own business as they interacted. That was, until the new arrival made an introduction. But when she was addressed as being the bartender's "girl," she quickly threw her hands up. "Oh, no no," she insisted with a shake of her head. "Bartender is nice man, but I am not his girl."
The man extended his hand to her, and she jumped once more before stretching her own out to shake his lightly. "Nixie Auttenberg."
|
|
Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
Offline
|
Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 23, 2015 19:40:42 GMT -5
Fin listened to the woman speak, as he handled drinks for other patrons, and nodded to them. Her accent, he couldn't quite place it, then she spoke again, and Fin stoped pouring the drink he had in his hands. German, she was German./ How many times had he been shot at, how many times had he watched the light fade from a mans eyes, a he ran him through. Fin's hands visibly shook for a moment, before he set the glass, and bottle down, and folded his hands together on the bar. So what, she was German, he was Irish, and he had fought against her countrymen. That did not mean she was bad, or evil, or wicked. No, most of the German soldiers he had met were actually quite decent people. It was just a reflethat four years of hard fighting had driven into his skull. When you hear the accent of an enemy, be on guard. Finley was better than that though, the war was his past and it didn't control him.
Reaching out, he offered his hand to her, "Finley O'Brien. Head bartender, and assistant manager of the Underground. Pleasure to meet ya, Miss...?" Before she could respond however, Heath arrived. THe oldest one of Fin's cousins, the man was his polar opposite, but there was no one he would rather have in a fight. When heath walked up, Fin grabbed a bottle, and an empty glass, and set it down. "Well... look what the cat dragged in... Or is it hopes of seeing a certain singer, ewh?" Fin grinned at his cousin, then noticed how the woman jumped, and Fin shook his head. AS Heath reached for the bottle, Fin's hand snaked out, and lightly whacked Heath in the side of the head, "Oi, what would your mum say if she heard you using that kind of language in front of strangers, and women no less?" Grinning, Fin quickly shot back out of reach, then froze as Heath said the stranger was his girl. A look of panic spread across his face, and Fin waved his hands.
"No, no, no... Heath, she isn't... I don't... I just met her." When the girl wasn't looking, Fin quickly flipped Heath off, and mouthed the word, 'bastard' to him. When his composure returned, and the redness died from his face some, Fin stepped closer, and cleared his throat. "You'll have to forgive Heath here His mother really did try to teach him better. He is just a bit thick in the skull." Fin's attention was pulled away for a moment, and as Heath's lackey, joey walked away, Fin whistled. "Oi, Joe. Don't forget what I told ya. None, of that in here." Finley knew what kind of business Heath was in, and he refused to let it inside the club. The place was enough of a gold mine for feds as it was, without adding drugs to the mix. "Turning his attenton back to the bar, Fin looked over at his assistant, "Ey, Matt. I'm taking a break. You have the bar now." Fin relaxed against the bar, and lifted his cup of tea to his lips, "Cheers, eh?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Heath Mulligan on Jun 23, 2015 20:32:57 GMT -5
Clutching his glass of lager, Heath chuckled at both of them; this eyes darting first to find Fin, then to the rather shy girl next to him. He was amused by his reaction and by her impression of him. It's not like he wanted to start off on the wrong page with either of them, but Fin had always been a rather easy target for public teasing, and frankly, he was a target that Heath couldn't resist. As for the girl, Heath didn't worry too much about her, seeing as how she would probably learn more about him sooner or later. Heath sighed, then laughed at Fin, who was subtly flipping him off from beneath the counter. As his cousin continued to lightly jab him, he then rolled his eyes and turned the bar stool directly in front of Nixie.
"That's not true," Heath told her, a slow but steady smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I'm not thick-skulled, just a little on the rebellious side. I live rather wildly," He then shot her a wink, half listening to Fin's orders to Joey. "Honestly though," he continued, quickly motioning around the lounge itself. "You came to the right place."
|
|
|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jun 23, 2015 21:33:14 GMT -5
The second man had interrupted the introduction of the first, so once she was done exchanging names with Heath, she turned her attention back to the bartender. His name was Finley, and he was apparently both the head bartender as well as an assistant manager. Well, she was meeting the higher ups of the establishment rather quickly, wasn't she? "Nixie," she replied, reaching out to shake the man's hand. "Nixie Auttenberg. Charms Professor at The American Academy of Magic," she introduced politely.
Banter was exchanged between the two men, and it reminded her of some of the playful conversations she had with her brother when they were younger. When the war began, he went off to fight against their home country, which she supported fully. He aligned with the English to try and take down their government that had lost its mind with its thirst for power. Ever since that day, she never saw him again, though once she turned eighteen, she was thankful for that. What if they had been put up against one another? Surely she wouldn't be able to kill her brother, but would he have been able to kill her? She certainly hoped so...
"Another, please?" she asked Fin as she scooted her glass across the bar once again. She was almost like an alien when it came to interacting with people at this point, even after being away from the war for about five years. Sure, she had been surrounded by her squadron technically, but they were a monstrous group of Germans who killed anything in sight. And, ultimately, they turned her into one of them until she finally snapped and murdered them all before fleeing. "Sorry, I am new to socializing. Haven't done in a while," she confessed to both men.
The way that Heath was winking towards her and smirking made her a little uneasy. Eight years without such an encounter made it like a foreign concept she couldn't wrap her mind around, so she bit on her lip and dropped her gaze to the bar beneath them for a moment. "Live wildly?" she repeated. "Careful. Wild side is dangerous," she warned before looking back to Fin. "You live on wild side too, yes?"
|
|
Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
Offline
|
Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 24, 2015 1:56:06 GMT -5
Fin watched his cousin shamelessly, and without hesitation begin talking and flirting with the stranger, and he could only chuckle. So it was with Heath, also trying to find his next lay, something in the woman's eyes however made Fin realize it would be as easy as Heath was used to. Once she turned back towards him, he set down his cup, and took her hand. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Professor. Welcome, to our humble town, and proud academy."
Fin released her hand, and toke up his cup of tea once more, and smirked as he watched Heath. Yup, cousins, close friends, and world's apart. Fin laughed as Heath remarked he liked to live wildly, and smirked again when Nixie stated that living wild was dangerous. Oh how true that was. Her question towards fin made him shake his head, and swallow the liquid in his mouth.
"In recent years? No. Not really, when I was a teenager, aye. I was a wild one..." Finley replied, looked at Heath, then at Nixie and shrugged. "Well, you're a peofessor, so I have no problem saying this. I never finished the academy. I ran off when the war began, and joined the fight alongside the Brits." Fin shrugged and took a sip from his cup, "I fought all the way through, never using my abilities. For four years, I remained silent, and hidden. So aye, I was wilder in my youth, but now, I just take what adventure and business I can." Fin admitted with a shrug and "Wild, maybe, but not like I once was."
|
|
|
|
Post by Heath Mulligan on Jun 25, 2015 19:52:05 GMT -5
Although his demeanor was open, friendly, and charismatic, Heath was really just trying to read the girl next to him. She was cute, sure, but what was her purpose being in the Underground? Was it simply because she was thirsty, and was looking for a specific drink to satisfy her needs, or was it more? Shifting his weight on the stool, Heath listening carefully as the girl who called herself "Nixie" explained her own demeanor, to which he simply flashed an amused smile and waved an hand into the air.
"No big deal," He told Nixie, glancing at Fin in the process. "It's perfectly fine for you to feel a bit overwhelmed. We can be," Heath paused, bringing a hand to his chest, "Or, I can be, at least, pretty fucking boisterous. Fin here is right though," he turned his attention back to his cousin. "He's been tamed over the past few years. When we were younger though...oh man, those were the days."
|
|
|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jun 26, 2015 0:43:52 GMT -5
"Thank you for the welcome," she said to Finley, the corner of one side of her mouth curling into a very faint smile. Even so, she was proud of it. It was a genuine faint smile at least, which was more than she could say for her previous smiles over the last several years. All were forced and deceiving, but this one was simply because she was surrounded by a couple of men who - though sketchy - were at least being decent towards her. After all, that's all she could really ask for even though she didn't deserve it.
When Finley mentioned fighting alongside the British, though, her muscles tensed up ever so slightly. If this was true, surely he had heard of her; everyone in that war had heard of her, unfortunately. They heard of all the carnage, of all the bloodshed and the tears. They all knew of what she was capable of, and anyone on the opposing side who had the chance to meet her never learned to tell the tale. They were simply sent home in body bags, if there was even that much left to collect of them. "Glad you fought the good fight," she said with a nod, lifting her glass and downing the contents quickly. Slender as she was, she could probably drink at least one of these men under the table. "My people.. Stupid and crazy."
Oh, her guilt was plucking at her spine and sending cold, uncomfortable chills rolling down it, but she tried to push that and the nightmares away as she looked back to Heath. "You just be careful, yes? No need to waste good life on danger." Nixie herself had wasted far too many lives herself. Good ones, too, so she didn't want that happening anymore. No more bloodshed.
|
|
Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
Offline
|
Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 26, 2015 14:48:49 GMT -5
Fin watched his cousin, and rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he did. If it was at all possible, Fin would have though Heath to be more cautious than him. Though in hindsight, Heath didn't run off to fight a war. So, Fin settled back once more, and watched Heath and Nixie, when the discussion turned back to him, Fin raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I'm still wild, and dangerous, Heath. I'm just smarter about it, than you." Fin added the last part, and grinned, before looking at Nixie.
Fin smired and shook his head at her words. "The good fight? There was nothing good about that hell hole. Particularly where I was concerned. I was a raider. I called through mud, and blood, just to slip inot an enemy trench, and start slitting throats." Fin poured a glass of whiskey for himself, and shook his head. "There was nothing good I did over there, only evil... and I'd do it again in a heartbeat...
|
|
|
|
Post by Heath Mulligan on Jun 26, 2015 15:29:59 GMT -5
So, this girl believed his life to be a good one? Heath has to force himself from laughing right in front of her. That wouldn't have been very gentleman-like, would it? The truth was, was that he was far from good, or noble...anything like that. He had gotten rid of any hope of being a decent person when he had been introduced to cocaine and the world of selling cocaine. It had lured him in and then dragged him down, almost like an anchor. While he did enjoy the pristine, fancy lifestyle he lived every day, there were times when he has wished he had sought another profession. Dealing with drugs...was...well, it was complicated, to say the least. No one was ever satisfied. Someone always wanted more, or someone always wanted something different; and if he got anything wrong or misinterpreted anything, it would be his head.
He frowned, then listened to Finley as he told Nixie about his time in the War. Heath has never really known his cousin's reasoning for volunteering and going over to Germany. All he knew was that when he returned, he was definitely not the same person he was as before. His build was different, his eyes were different...even his smile was different....and not in a good way. He was broken in a way that could not be fixed, and Heath knew despite his own troubles, he would never trade it to go and see the horrors of war as Finley did.
With a light laugh, Heath shrugged, glanced at both of them, then attempted to smoothly transition into another, less heavy subject. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing here? Surely you're better than a speak-easy?" He asked Nixie inquisitively.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jun 28, 2015 0:45:19 GMT -5
Nixie was all too familiar with sneaking around and slitting throats, which brought a light frown to her lips. Most of the time, though, her executions were far more brutal and cold than the simple dicing of a jugular. The murder that stuck out to her the most was that of this one woman. She had been assisting the enemy team by housing and feeding them - even nurturing their wounds - and Nixie had been ordered to execute the woman. But, given her involvement with the opposing forces, she was instructed to not just make a "clean cut" when it came to the woman. Nixie had to torture the woman, beginning with the removal of her eyes while she was still alive, dismembering her toes and fingers, and then moving on to larger limbs. It was a horrific event that still haunted her nightmares to this day, but it was something she had to live with.
"Well, at least you tried to stop bad. You were on good side," she said with a nod to Finley. He seemed bothered by his involvement in the war, but she would have killed to at least be fighting on the "right" side of the battle. "Do not be hard on self. You are good," she told him.
But then Heath asked her just why she was in the speakeasy, and she didn't exactly have an answer for that. "I do not know," she said with a light shrug, taking another sip of her drink. "Work is tiring. English is not strong point, so students have hard time understanding." It sucked horribly to be a professor with a native tongue so different from her students, but there wasn't exactly anything she could do about that. "Rough week. Trying to get better with my speaking, but needed to take off edge."
|
|
Finley O'Brien
Bartender/Hammer
When the world goes to shit, I will still have my family.
Offline
|
Post by Finley O'Brien on Jun 28, 2015 1:13:39 GMT -5
"There was no good side, or bad side..." he mumbled as he looked at the floor. Why couldn't people understand that, that is was politics that led to the war, not one side being good, and the other being bad. Still, it wasn't his place to argue with it, and he didn't want to argue, let alone think about his past. So when Heath changed the topic Fin looked at him and nodded a silent thank you. He listened as Nixie talked, still slightly uncomfortable listening to he accent, but he forced it down. As she explained the trouble she was having at the school, Fin shook his head, and poured her another drink.
"Damned shame that. Having to deal with something out of your control. Particularly with the wat kids can be." Fin grinned, albeit a hollow grin that never touched his eyes. "Remember when we were in the academy, Heath? Those poor teachers, I'm posit I've they all had a party after I left." Looking back to Nixie fin cock ed his head, "So what made you choose the United States, instead of Engkand? They have the school that started it all there. Far more prestige than our little academy."
|
|
|
|
Post by Heath Mulligan on Jun 28, 2015 19:51:59 GMT -5
For once, Heath could relate to the pretty German girl. He knew exactly what it was like to be dropped in a place that one knew little to nothing about. His experiences, though, had to have been darker...or, at least, far more dangerous than dealing with irritated, impatient students. During his stay in the city, that was when he had been introduced to the drug world, and in the drug world, he learned how fucking selfish and cruel people could be over something that was so harmful to ones health. He remembered a particular time when he had been on a run with his mentor, Rusty. Rusty had taken them to the slums of the city, where the poorest of the poor lived in nothing but one-roomed, filthy, broken apartments. They had visited the slums in search of a particular family who had agreed to use all the money in their name for a meager stash of a pointedly strong strain of cocaine. Once finally finding their said slum, Rusty had knocked on the door, and within a few seconds, the door had been opened, and they were both face to face with an older, dirty man, who peeked his head out into the hallway before ushering them in. Minutes passed, and as he stressed something to Rusty in his native language, Heath had noticed that his wife was off to the side, holding their arm of who appeared to be their teenage daughter. The dark-haired, olive skinned girl wore a worried and fearful expression, and he didn't understand why until moments later. In a flash, the father of the family lunged back to grab his daughter from his wife, then tugged her forward towards both of them. Heath stepped back, unsure of what to do, and, while Rusty was more hesitant, his mentor eventually conducted a quick exchange: all the stash he had for their daughter. The father greedily took the stash from Rusty's hands, then, all at once, hurried them back outside into the hallway.
That had been that. Their daughter now belonged to both of them, and although Heath refused to touch her, Rusty did not; and there were many nights Heath wanted to jump from his bed and strangle his mentor to death just because of the things he heard him doing to the teenage girl. He left Rusty soon afterward, never to hear of him or the girl again. It was then that he realized how evil the world could be...so, for him, selling drugs was such a lesser evil compared to other things. While it was illegal, and in some people's minds, wrong, he would have never agreed to one's selling of their own child for his drugs. That was worthy of murder, in his opinion. How the fuck could anyone throw their child away like that? Like they were nothing?
Fin's words rocketed him out of his memories, and for that, Heath was grateful. "Huh?" he asked, his eyes darting from Fin to Nixie in a matter of seconds. "Oh, yeah," he then laughed. "For sure, buddy. They threw the biggest party when we both left."
|
|
