Dark Alley Disquiet

Monty Pendleton

💡 Inventor | Guardian 💡
 
Messages
10,413
OOC First Name
Claire
Blood Status
Muggleborn
Relationship Status
Single
Sexual Orientation
Asexual
Wand
Straight 9 1/2 Inch Rigid Walnut Wand with Thestral Tail Hair Core
Age
1/1999 (61)
It was not often that Monty Pendleton found himself in New Zealand. Unfortunately, he knew The Silver Snake to be the only shop in existence that sold weatherballs. With his purchases tucked safely beneath the folds of his emerald green coat, he stepped out onto Bleak Street - and straight onto someone's toes. "Merlin's beard!" he exclaimed. "I do apologise."
 
Ermolai recently came to New Zealand looking for a holiday. After nearly losing all of his hair through dragon fire (as well as a nice set of robes!) he decided a nice holiday that would also be coupled with studying the Antipodean Opaleye, once he found it. As he wandered down the path, he yelped slightly when he was suddenly bumped into. This certainly wouldn't be an Antipodean Opaleye. His brown eyes widened, however, as he recognised (vaguely) the man before him. He hadn't seen him in the last twenty years or so.

"Dear Merlin!" he exclaimed, grinning brightly. "You've gotten old!"
 
Monty's jacket was pulled tighter around his waist. As discreetly as he could, he patted the green velvet with worried fingers, and was pleased to feel that none of his weatherballs had been crushed. He turned his attention to the man in front of him. Shrouded in darkness, it was difficult to see more than a jawline and the flash of white teeth. "Er - I have?" he asked, half-confused, half-offended.
 
"Indeed you have, Monty," he replied, extending his hand upon realising that he was not recognised. Monty had barely changed, the same could not exactly be said for Ermolai. He was a lot paler than he once was, with crazier hair. he also constantly smelt like burning embers, but he'd learnt to ignore that. "Ermolai Vetrov!"
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Ermolai Vetrov... The memories came back in pieces, and then all at once. "Ermie?" he said, splitting into a grin. "Of course! What an awfully long time it's been!" Twenty-two years, to be precise. He received the hand and shook it merrily. "But what on earth has brought you to Bleak Street?"
 
"I'm looking for dragons!" Ermolai piped up excitedly. "Specifically, the Antipodean Opaleye. Such a pretty creature!" Never mind the fact that dragons were huge and would most definitely not be found in such an area.
 
Monty didn't bother to ask what Ermolai was looking for dragons on Bleak Street for. As far as he could remember, his friend had always been a few pork pies short of a picnic. "Dragons?" he repeated. "Didn't you always want to work with dragons? How splendid! Oh, er... perhaps we should continue this in Obsidian Harbour," he suggested nervously, glancing down the alley that dissolved into darkness.
 
Ermolai, as if noticing for the first time that perhaps this was not the safest area on the planet, looked around with widened eyes. He then shook his head fervently. "Oh, don't be such a worry-wart, it's perfectly safe." He stepped away from the door, and gestured further down the way with wide arms. "Just look at that dark patch. Now, certainly, down there is much more dangerous." His hands now on his hips, he nodded one last time. "We should explore it."
 
Monty's face was the picture of horror. "Absolutely not!" he said, hugging his jacket around him even tighter. There were all sorts of rogue wizards around these parts. Not to mention hags. Monty gave a shudder at the thought. But down the dark alley, something was glinting in the gutter, and like a magpie, Monty had already spotted it. "Just... wait there a moment," he said, trotting off into the darkness to retrieve it.
 
Ermolai frowned like a child whose sweets were plucked form him as he was instructed to remain where he was. Like that was going to happen - he wanted to see the shiny thing too! Trying to sneak about inconspicuously, he paused when his shoes made noise, and told them to be quiet much louder than necessary. He returned to his clever sneaking tactics with no finesse, and attempted to blend into his environment whenever he felt that someone, or something was looking, until he was behind Monty. "What is it?" he asked, standing on his toes to try and see.
 
Monty nudged the glinting silver with the side of his shoe, reluctant to touch it until he'd made sure the dark brown slop it was sat in really was mud. Eventually he picked it up and held it gingerly between the very tips of his thumb and forefinger, the way one might handle a dirty handkerchief. "I don't know," said Monty, without turning around. He'd forgotten about his instruction to stay put. "Looks like some kind of locket!" He wondered if someone nearby had dropped it.
 
Ermolai, seeing as he was not yelled at to return to his previous position, circled around to stand in front of Monty and tilted his head at the item. "It's certainly not from a dragon," he stated, stroking his chin after pretending to intensely evaluate the item. He then waggled his eyebrows, and plucked the shiny from Monty's grasp, before dancing around him. "It's all mine!"
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Monty raised an eyebrow as the locket was snatched from his grasp, but he did not protest. A locket in the gutters of Bleak Street? Ermolai was quite welcome to it. "Yes, yes," he agreed, exasperated. "Goodness me, Ermolai, I thought you said you were studying dragons, not trying to turn into one!" He shook his head, wondering what on earth had happened to his poor friend over the last two decades. True, he'd never had the tightest screws, but at least they'd held his head relatively above his shoulders.
 
Ermolai jumped to a stop, now positioned back in front of his friend, trying to reign himself in. "If only I could Monty. I'd be sure to be as far away from everything as possible, and breathe out smoke rings!" He flicked the locket into the air, and caught it again. "Sure is shiny for an old, dirty locket, ey?" Very shiny indeed. Definitely real silver.
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Yevheniy was bored, he'd gone for a drink, but his friends had had other things to do, and Jeremy had been busy, so, Yev had found himself drinking and being alone. So, he was stood in the shadows, waiting for something to happen, and it did when two men who were older than the boy emerged and began talking, he watched them for a little bit, before deciding he was done with waiting, "The f##k you doing," he said harshly, his thick Ukranian accent imposing itself heavily against his words, "That locket's mine! Get your filthy hands off it," he didn't know what it was, but he was just looking to scare them away, have a little bit of fun, but he didn't take out his wand, no need for that, "Hand it over, now"
 
Lurking in the Shadows of Bleak street waiting for a child to enter, Genevieve watched two men squabble like children, throwing around something shiny much to her delight. Skilled with avoiding detection, Genevieve with her hood up carefully moved through the Shadows near the men, one who was cockishly flicking the locket into the air and Catching it again. Lunging out of the Darkness like some possessed Cat she snatched the locket and cackled holding the locket up to her neck 'What a Pretty shiny, It would look beautiful around my Neck, don't you think?' she smiled, her breath worse then her teeth is possible.

((Someone say Hag? Feel free to take it from her if you can get close enough to the smell))
 
Monty had just opened his mouth to agree - it was a very shiny locket - when out of the darkness emerged a voice. Attached to that voice was the youthful face of a young man; no older than twenty, Monty estimated. "Ermolai, give him the locket," the inventor said quietly, looking to avoid any fights, though whether or not his friend would have handed it over, nobody would ever know. The hag pounced. Monty paced backwards until he hit the cold stone wall, his fingers slipping into his coat and curling instinctively around the handle of his wand. "Y... yes, lovely," he managed to agree. "Let's go, Ermolai!"
 
One of the strange men seemed to be about to give the locket to him, when out of the darkness sprung this most horrid of things, it smelled worse than anything he'd ever smelled before. The teen's hand went to his wand, "Give that back, it's f##king mine," he told this thing, this hag, "You are the most disgusting thing ever" he mutter in Ukrainian with a small sigh, because she truly was, "Give it back you ugly piece of sh1t," Yevheniy continued in English, he wasn't going to back down now, he never backed down from a fight. He wasn't going to start doing so just because this thing was truly horrific, and Yev was sure he wouldn't get the smell out for days
 
So many things had happened all in one go - Ermolai could barely keep up. His shiny was stolen from him, and it felt like all the colour had gone from the world - or was it just the dark alley? A smell invaded his nostrils, and his sniffled as Monty backed up. His mouth dropped - but not at the hag, oh no, something more foul - the young man. The hag had virtually scared three more greys into his hair, but the boy's language was horrifying. "Don't say such things to her!" he said sternly, as if speaking to a child - which he felt he was. Finger pointing and all. "I have half a mind to wash your mouth out with soap right now! I always keep some on me. Don't think I won't do it!"
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Using colourful language at her Genevieve decided to fasten the necklace around her neck, he seemed disgusted by her in fact he said he was disgusted by her, however the other two men didn't seem to mind, one said the Necklace looked Lovely on her and the other defended her, Genevieve moved towards the man who was giving the other a talking two, she rubbed her shoulder against his 'I could tell you fancied me' she said batting her eyelashes which seemed to be caked with some for of substance as a desperate attempt to make her look somewhat appealing. Touching the Man's nose she moved over to the boy and sniffed the air 'You're still young, not quite a child, but a long boil..' she trailed off, reaching out her hand to poke the boy to test his meaty content.

((Music in my head right now whilst this is happening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NIYyvAwEK8M))
 
Was Ermolai out of his mind? Monty quickly decided not to answer that, and instead turned his attention back to the scene before him. The stench was repulsive, but it was really the last of the inventor's concerns. He couldn't very well leave Ermolai here to fend for himself, regardless of how foolishly he was behaving. Tightening his grip around his wand, Monty watched through flashing eyes. A long boil? Overwhelmed by the memories he'd tried to bury many a year ago, he gave a full body shudder. Perhaps the situation would diffuse itself. Perhaps. Please.

((It's half past one in the morning why did you make me click this no))
 
Perhaps picking a fight with a hag wasn't the smartest thing that Yevheniy had ever done, but it wasn't like he actually did the smart thing ever. He had picked fights with people twice his size, and twice his skill. He was fairly careless even reckless. It took almost all of Yev's might to stay still as she touched his nose, before then sniffing the air, "Oh, you are revolting," he told her as he smacked her hand away from him, "Give me what's mine," he told her, trying his best to just not smell her, "Go find some actual child you can eat, and give me what's mine," he ignored the two other men, although if things kicked off, he was sort of hoping they might just help him. He didn't want the necklace really, it had just been to scare the two men, but now it was the principle, and he wasn't going to stand down when she had just said that she pretty much wanted to eat him.
 
Ermolai's nose twitched when it was touched, making his eyes squint slightly as it did so. He did not like the gesture, coupled with the fact that she smelt worse than a dragon's den that hadn't been cleaned for much too long. From his pocket he retrieved a bar of soap, before handing it to her. "You should have this," he said quietly, ignoring the young man entirely. He didn't care if he was eaten - maybe that would teach him some manners. Hopefully the hag would allow him to have a nose plug first though, or at least sprinkle some nicer smelling things before she went about trying to eat the man. It would make it slightly more bearable for him. "It's lavender smelling, very nice indeed - right Monty?" He looked a bit pale, actually. He wandered over to the slightly older man, leaving the hag and boy to do as they pleased. "Monty! You're looking as white as the moon, man. You could work as a lumos in these streets!"​
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The rude boy suggested her finding some actual child to eat and she poked his gut again 'Why would I do that, You look tender enough' she tapped the locket around her neck 'You can have this locket only after you've been simmering for two hours' The man who fancied her handed her some soap and she sniffed it, curious she licked the object and retched, throwing it to the ground 'That does not taste nice. You should try some child or liver, it's much better'
The Fancy man made a comment to another man named Monty about looking white as the moon, she walked over to him picking up her moth eaten skirt so she didn't step on it 'Some good Teenage soup will put some colour back into you, Help get the retch and we can all have a tea party at my place with my Sister Agatha, we love guests.' Genevieve Smiled.
 

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