Cain Brennan
Active Member
- Messages
- 38
- OOC First Name
- Kirsti
OOC: Please ask before joining! I'm looking for any DE with legilimency. please see this thread for details~
Cain was still in the airport when he concluded that he hated New Zealand. He hated the salty wind, and how the air tasted fresh and green even on the smokers balcony. He hated the overweight Muggles, and their lazy, drawling accents. He hated how all the towns had names he could barely pronounce, and even more how his cab driver kept correcting him. He hated the pink little Muggle girl who asked him 'are you Irish or English?' with a mouth full of sweets as the taxi driver unloaded his luggage outside the hotel. He hated the boy who showed him to his room for being too pretty. And he hated, more than anything, that Abel wasn't with him.
But at least his room was big.
He didn't unpack anything, even though he was planning on staying there for a while (perhaps a fortnight, while he found a suitable apartment in a suitable city. And as an afterthought - did this country even have cities besides the capital?) but instead instructed the pretty boy to have some food ready for him when he returned, and took to the Wellington Streets.
Despite the country's small population, there were a surprising amount of people loitering, busking and shopping. The streets were lined with bars, casinos and night clubs, and everyone appeared young and scantily dressed. Perhaps this country wasn't so bad after all? He overheard a couple of witches talking about the latest in Witch Weekly, which it seemed they had imported from Europe. Were there many Wizards in Wellington? He wondered how close the school was, and whether it was as grand as Hogwarts back home. He thought about talking to them, but his face was still hot on the Wanted List, and perhaps even featured in Witch Weekly. He couldn't afford to blow his cover so soon.
He eventually found the bar where he was meant to be meeting one of the local Death Eaters. It was dark and dingy, and very, very Muggle. He bumped shoulders with a couple of drunkards, but silenced their crude vocabulary with a glare. Cowards, he thought dryly as they slunk back out into the alleyway. The bar girl was busty but ugly, with dark skin and a flat nose. She battered her eyelashes at him as he ordered a cheap wine ('all we have, love'), and he politely told her that had she a son as heavily endowed, he might express more interest. 'One of those boys' she called him, unaffected. 'I see you all the time, on the corner of Rahui Street.'
It was half Eight and two wine glasses later when the man he was waiting for entered the bar.
Cain was still in the airport when he concluded that he hated New Zealand. He hated the salty wind, and how the air tasted fresh and green even on the smokers balcony. He hated the overweight Muggles, and their lazy, drawling accents. He hated how all the towns had names he could barely pronounce, and even more how his cab driver kept correcting him. He hated the pink little Muggle girl who asked him 'are you Irish or English?' with a mouth full of sweets as the taxi driver unloaded his luggage outside the hotel. He hated the boy who showed him to his room for being too pretty. And he hated, more than anything, that Abel wasn't with him.
But at least his room was big.
He didn't unpack anything, even though he was planning on staying there for a while (perhaps a fortnight, while he found a suitable apartment in a suitable city. And as an afterthought - did this country even have cities besides the capital?) but instead instructed the pretty boy to have some food ready for him when he returned, and took to the Wellington Streets.
Despite the country's small population, there were a surprising amount of people loitering, busking and shopping. The streets were lined with bars, casinos and night clubs, and everyone appeared young and scantily dressed. Perhaps this country wasn't so bad after all? He overheard a couple of witches talking about the latest in Witch Weekly, which it seemed they had imported from Europe. Were there many Wizards in Wellington? He wondered how close the school was, and whether it was as grand as Hogwarts back home. He thought about talking to them, but his face was still hot on the Wanted List, and perhaps even featured in Witch Weekly. He couldn't afford to blow his cover so soon.
He eventually found the bar where he was meant to be meeting one of the local Death Eaters. It was dark and dingy, and very, very Muggle. He bumped shoulders with a couple of drunkards, but silenced their crude vocabulary with a glare. Cowards, he thought dryly as they slunk back out into the alleyway. The bar girl was busty but ugly, with dark skin and a flat nose. She battered her eyelashes at him as he ordered a cheap wine ('all we have, love'), and he politely told her that had she a son as heavily endowed, he might express more interest. 'One of those boys' she called him, unaffected. 'I see you all the time, on the corner of Rahui Street.'
It was half Eight and two wine glasses later when the man he was waiting for entered the bar.