Downtown London ((Open))

[leland]

Leland's watch beeped once as he looked at the silver face he had on his left wrist. It was noon, and he had no where to go. Looking up, the sky was bright, not a cloud in sight. The sun was shining and the day was busy as ever. It was the weekend, and all of the shops, museums, galleries, and streets seemed to be busy with people. With his hands in is pockets, Leland crossed a busy intersection along side a group of people, muggles. It was muggle London, where Leland resided when he was away from Hogwarts. His family was from the states, but him and his brother shared a place in London. Leland loved the independence of it all. Any seventeen year old would love it. Living with your older brother, not a care in the world. He was a lucky kid to be trusted so much by his father. But, luck had nothing to do it with. He was a good kid who didn't get into too much trouble, he just knew mostly how to get out of it. His friends good at Hogwarts know about his living arrangement, but not many people understand. You see, he was born into a wealthy family, however, he doesn't like to show it. Comfortable, yes. But that is all most people know.

Reaching the corner on the other side of the street, Leland passed a local corner coffee shop. Passing several packed tables, His dark eyes fell on a single table that was empty. He had an entire day ahead of him to be free to do anything. It was one of his first weekends home from Hogwarts in awhile, and wanted to spend his time wisely. But relaxing, ah yes, that was extremely wise to him. Arriving at the table he eyed up from before, he pulled out a chair about to sit down. But, something caught his eye. Looking up, He saw a girl about his age, with a coffee, standing with two of her friends looking for a free table. Keeping his hand on the back of the chair, Leland caught eyes with the main red head, who caught his eye to begin with. Making a beckoning motion with his left hand, he called the small group of girls over. "Feel free." he spoke as he patted the table, that had a loose news paper folded on top, left over from the last occupant. "Are you sure? I'm sure we could find somewhere else." One girl spoke as Leland picked up the newspaper. "It's not a problem ladies. I was just getting the paper anyway." He stated with a smile.

After a pleasant greeting to the three girls, and a quick exchange of names and numbers, Leland was on his way down the street with the newspaper clenched in his hand by his side. He wanted to figure out something to do, before it hit midnight. London was a brilliant place where you could make fun out of almost anything. And with the summer in full swing, Leland intended on making the most of each day before be arrived back at Hogwarts.

[Viola Hudson]

For too long Viola had been sitting on the edge of a small white stool that offered no comfort in the slightest, with about forty pairs of eyes staring at her. The eyes were drilling into the lyrics of the song she sang, slicing through the strings of the guitar in her hands, running up and down her form in a way that almost made Vi feel sick. She hated doing gigs like this. She was so much better than they made her out to be. But recently… recently they were the only offers she was getting besides Shane’s. And Viola wasn’t foolish enough to pass up offers these days. She needed the extra money gigs like this could give her, even if it meant spending the evening being admired for her body and not her music. Finishing the song she was on, Viola smiled falsely at the applause that followed and reached her arm down towards the floor. She lifted up her glass and took a long drink, not even wincing as the harsh alcohol attacked her insides and crept down her throat like a fierce intruder.

“Right…” She brought her lips to the microphone, now not even bothering to smile or appear to be cheerful. The faces beneath her in the pub were expectant. Her set had barely started, and already Viola wanted to drown in the drink below her stool and escape the scene in the easiest way she knew how. “This next song is called Washed Away. Enjoy.” Her voice was flat, but certainly not weak; for Vi was never weak. She was always confident no matter how many people were watching her. She was strong, and as she brought her lips to the mike once more her voice obviously made clear that she was not going to be messed with- despite the slightly mournful lyrics.

“Tired as hell and falling up the stairs, filled with a thousand cares,
as you walk out from the bedroom
though it feels like all my fire has gone, you just turn me on
can't believe how much I want you
you say you know how i'm feeling, I just need to try to settle down

Oh a million faces pass my way
Oh they're all the same, nothing seems to change anytime I look around
Oh who knows just what the future holds
all I want to know is if it's with you

we're distracted by the hard times, and the troubles that we make
let us throw them in the ocean, let it wash our cares away
oh the phone you know it never stops, it's the last thing I hear at night
and the first thing in the morning

Oh a million faces pass my way
Oh they're all the same, nothing seems to change anytime I look around
Oh who knows just what the future holds
all I want to know is if it's with you

let the sea wash our cares away, let it wash our cares away...”

Viola was completely wrapped up her this song. It was her song, her heart. Rarely did she sing such ‘sad’ songs- her lyrics were normally energetic and feisty. And yet this pub had saddened her a little and it was refreshing to sing something different just because she could- no-one here new her, after all. She was quite far from her home in Wales. Viola wanted to disappoint the crowd for some reason. She wanted to surprise them with something so unlike her that they didn’t see it coming. As her fingertips danced across her old deep-red acoustic guitar and the words were sent from her lips, her eyes glanced out of the pub and noticed a boy just outside the window. He was young, certainly younger than her. A newspaper was in his hand. Where he was it would be impossible not to hear her song, Vi thought. The notion was dispelled from her head as she finished the song and pushed her stool back quickly. She had only been on the stage for a few songs and yet she wanted a break badly. With a frown she pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring the comments of men already drunk so early in the day, and pressed on the door to the pub quite fiercely. Once outside she took a deep breath of the cool air. A sigh escaped her lips as her fingers fumbled in her pockets for her cigarette pack. Finding it after a moment, she ignited a cigarette with her wand and sucked on it almost hungrily. Casting a glance around her she noticed the boy from earlier was still nearby. He looked… better than this place. Raising her chin slightly she watched him curiously. He looked a little aimless and out of place and Viola couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing outside the pub.

{Lyrics- Million Faces by Paulo Nutini}

[leland]

((Hey, just wanted to tell you I just recently changed Leland's bio. He is now a graduate. Just wanted to keep you up to date.))

Crossing the street in a group of muggles, Leland smiled softly to himself. Still, each time he was out in public he felt the unbearable humor of the wand that sat comfortably in his back pocket, under his shirt, hidden from the public eye. Most people would assume it a folklore or possibly a fairy-tale, but it was all too true. Leland at age 20 was a lot more man than he ever assumed he was before. He found himself, sort of. He found his career. He was comfortable living alone in his flat. He seemed to have a lot going for him, but for some reason he kept searching for something. That itch that seemed to never be scratched. Through his job, Leland found himself doing a lot of soul searching. Finding what he truly like in comparison to pleasing people, his boss, or tourists into believing something was 'just as good as you've heard' when it really wasn't. He had trouble in the beginning figuring out what he enjoyed. Compared to what he was brought up enjoying. He enjoyed walking. He enjoyed social gatherings without a personal title brought into a conversation, music that you are hearing for the first time, conversations about anything random, cynical movies, random quotes, coffee, and liquor. Of course this did conflict with some of his writings, since he had to please many crowds at once. But, he did still find a way to agree and honestly get his opinion across. Leland was not a liar, nor would he ever be framed as one. He just knew the right way to twist his words, and not be held accountable for the subliminal meaning.

Reaching the other side of the road, Leland strolled of the the side as he opened up his news paper in hand. It was the weekend, and it was the prime time for just about anything and everything to be happening. Since Leland didn't have hours to work, he seemed to find his topics of the week just by stumbling upon them. Opening the daily newspaper, his eye skimmed the entertainment page for midday events. 'Book signing at the library... live music at a local pub... grand opening of a local artist's gallery...' Leland's thoughts stumbled as he scanned the page. Not much was happening at noon. The evening seemed full, but who knew if any of it was eventful? Reading back over the few things that were happening at midday, he focused on the live acoustic show at the pub. The local pub was merely a few blocks down. It wasn't much of a walk. And Lee didn't seem a problem with seeing a bit of the local musicians, while catching a bite to eat.

The sun was still shining or a 25 degree Celsius day, as he folded up the newspaper and started on his walk down a few more blocks. Leland was pleasantly suprised there was not a rain cloud in sight, yet. The days seemed to at least have one scattered shower if any, and so far, he planned on walking most of the day. He wasn't about to be rained out from his free day escapade. Leland looked up, and the sky was clear. A crooked grin crossed his face as he continued to his destination.

Within a few minutes, Leland touched the curb in front of the pub. He paused for a moment as he turned to the street sign. He had been here several times before. He lived just several blocks away and he never noticed the street's name. Razzle Way. Leland scrunched his brow as he remembered this candy his grandfather used to give him from the states when he was younger. Razzles. That was the name of the colorful candy, that he hadn't seen in several years. A small moment of simplistic joy crossed his thoughts as he caught himself looking at the sign as if he was a tourist; with after several years of living in London, he surely was not. Reaching up with his left hand he rubbed the back of his neck slightly embarrassed. Walking a few steps toward the pub, Lee made of note in his mind. 'I don't hear any music.' Noticing a girl standing by the doorframe with a cigarette in her mouth, she looked as if she had been there for awhile. Walking toward the door, Leland stopped beside the girl before reaching for the handle. "Hey, Any idea what time the musician is going to go on?" He greeted and asked kindly and sort of off handish, wondering if he missed the show or if he was just about to.

[Viola Hudson]

Why must she depend on this stupid thing between her fingers? Viola took her gaze from the boy as she pulled another drag on her cigarette. It irritated her. Viola was such an independent person- from eight months old she’d needed to be able to survive alone. But somehow she still relied on her cigarettes whenever life got her down. Today was one of those moments; the normally bright, quirky Vi had disappeared, replaced with a colder and more guarded fake. It wasn’t who she wanted to be but for now she couldn’t muster the strength to push this character away. Sucking again on the cigarette her eyes returned to the boy. He had approached the door of the pub now and Viola was going to turn away, thinking he would soon disappear inside. And then she’d have to follow before long. She’d have to continue her set in those conditions. A glare flashed across her face and it took a moment to rid herself of it while she realised the boy had paused.

“What time the musician is going to go on?” Viola muttered after his question. She didn’t know. She wanted to escape to the nearest fireplace connected to the Floo network now and flee back home, to Wales, to safety. But her guitar and pay was lying inside. Another drag of the cigarette. “No, no idea. She’s not that good anyway. She could be, but not everyone can get their lives handed to them on a silver platter all the time. Not everyone can smile all the way through the day in this sick world. She’ll probably come on in a bit, after this thing’s burnt away the filter as well as her lungs.” Viola’s voice was cold but not directly at the boy; just at this whole crappy situation. She’d been speaking in reply to the stranger but it was obvious her answer was mainly to herself. With a sigh, she took one last pull of the cigarette before dropping it beneath her bright yellow boot and crunching it into the ground with her heel. Already she wanted another. Anything to avoid going back into the pub and facing that heartless, soulless crowd again.

But the boy was still here, she realised. Her spacey answer clearly was not what he had expected and with a frown she tried to regain herself and reply with a little more sincerity. “Sorry about that… err, I’m the ‘musician’. I’ve already done a few songs and I should be on now. But if you’re looking for a nice, quiet acoustic gig with a relaxed crowd and a good drink then you really don’t want to turn that handle. But… if you want to watch an out-of-place girl strumming to a crowd that only cares about where their next drink is coming from, at this hour, then go ahead and step inside.” Vi halted again. Once more, she had given what she supposed was not an ordinary answer. Then again, Viola obviously didn’t look like the ordinary girl. Today she’d charmed her hair into a bright, violent red. It had taken her too long to do so as her sunny yellow streaks from yesterday didn’t fancy coming out of her hair. Her eyes were exactly like a cats; a striking amber and shaped in that precise almond manner. Her clothes were a little toned down from normal, as Viola new first-hand what it was like getting onto a stage in her normal eccentric clothes and facing a crowd who hated such attire. She wore a short red, ‘poofy’ skirt that matched the colour of her hair with some bright white woollen tights beneath, her yellow ankle boots and a tiny white waistcoat over an orange strap top. Her jewellery was chunky and homemade. Oddly, her slight, short form made the entire ensemble look just right on her.

Viola took a few steps until she was close to both the pub door and the guy, and then hesitated. From the clouded window panes in the door she could see the owner of the pub casting angry looks around, wondering where his paid artist had run away to. “Oh, Merlin. I reckon I’ll wait out here another while.” She smiled ever so lightly, a fleeting expression that was gone almost as quickly as it came. After fumbling for another cigarette she offered the pack to the boy before introducing herself with a gentler voice. “I’m Viola. I think… I think I recognise you from somewhere.” Now that she was closer, the guy’s face certainly did look a little familiar.

[leland]

Looking into the pub through the window pane in front of him, the bar owner looked a bit frustrated. A few other men sitting around the bar shared the same look of irritation. Was the artist that bad? Leland thought. But, where were they? They're not on on the small stage. Leland studied the crowd in front of him looking for the musician. The girl beside him spoke to him as he studied the people's faces. Not completely focusing on the girl's words, he wondered where the musician was. Turning to the girl beside him; first, he picked up on her tone. It was aggravated. Some what in a tense tone, as if Leland pushed the wrong button with merely asking a question. Second, he started to focus on her words. Obviously, she was the musical talent at the pub today and she walked out of her show. Raising his eyebrows slightly at her comments, he was a little taken back by the bluntness of the girl. She seemed troubled, if anything- upset about something and needed to vent. And since Leland was an open target; due to the fact he initiated conversation with her first. The rough comments she shot at him where understood and accepted. It seemed as if Lee opened up a can of worms when it came to her, and was slightly entertained by the attitude she had toward this particular pub and show. The girl took one last drag of her cigarette and dropped it to the ground.

Soon the girl took a breath and seemed to try to start over again with Leland. She first apologized for her outburst and said she was the musician. "I've gathered that." he spoke a bit matter of factly as he finished. He listened to her as she went off again about the pub and the show. As she finished Leland paused as he figured she swallowed her words again. Something was seriously getting to her, and obviously it was the crowd inside the pub. "Sleazy crowd?" Leland questioned as he shifted his weight in his stance. Something about this girl made him stay where he was. Most likely, by the way the girl was dressed people wouldn't have approached her to begin with. But being a fan of personal expression in almost any way possible, he had the ut-most respect for people who could find themselves: themselves, in such clothes. Leland found it praiseworthy. However, Leland could see past the eccentric style and focus on the girl who was standing in front of him. She wasn't a girl draped in wicked colors, she was obviously a musician and a person fed up with something. Only from what he could gather it was the profane crowd inside. That was most likely the reason she left her show, since she said she 'should be on'.

As the girl took a few steps toward him and the door, she stood beside, he leaned back slightly so she had a good view of the bar. He knew what the owner's face looked like now, just by looking at the girl's reaction. It was apparent she did not want to go back in, even if her life depended on it. She was dreading walking in through the doors, and Leland found it intriguing on what was keeping her outside. All Leland wanted to do today was relax. Yes, possibly a drink or two. But mostly, entertain himself slightly. He was easily amused and simply entertained by the smallest things. And this girl did not amuse him, more like drew him in. She seemed like she was a book, just by herself, and it needed to be opened. Leland wasn't one to pry into other people's business, but it was blatant this girl needed to be read. Or at least reminded she wasn't just another book up on a shelf.

She introduced herself as she offered him a cigarette. "No thanks." he said as he shook his head slightly as if he wanted to re-think is choice. He wasn't a smoker, but he did smoke. It's like calling him an alcoholic. Leland wasn't one, but he did drink. It was all a choice of time and place. It was casual to him. Looking now, closer at the girl in front of him he thought of her name as she said he looked familiar. "I get that a lot." He said through a breath as he looked at the girl. "I'm Leland." he greeted. "I get out a lot. I only live a few blocks up." He said trying to help her think about where she may have seen him before. Muggle London has a certain crowd, who seemed to see themselves at a lot of the same places at night. Like shows, or concerts, or underground events. Names were rarely shared but you could very well see the same face at the same three events you visit in one night out. And with his job, he travled a lot alone to these events. Maybe that was it? Leland's thoughts went through his mind as he thought if Viola looked familiar. The hair did not strike a resemblance in his mind. He was sure he would have seen it and remembered if he had.

"So, do you plan on finishing your set, or do you want to get out of here?" Leland spoke questioning Viola. It was a sudden question to ask, but he could tell that she would more rather finish her whole pack of cigarettes than walk back in. Maybe she needed to excape.

[Viola Hudson]

{Apologies for the wait. (;}


The boy before her seemed not to be too taken aback by Viola’s immediate unusual ‘greeting’. In fact, he seemed to take it in his stride, something which Vi respected. She hadn’t known what the guy’s personality would be like and knew that many people could have given an angry reply at her familiar response. But luckily the young man was not like that. And what interested her a little more was the question of a ‘sleazy crowd’. When he asked this she let out a breathy chuckle which certainly didn’t contain any amused touch to it. It was tired, so tired. “You got it.” She muttered in return. Viola was not extremely attractive. But she had a nice face and her unusual dress sense and hair fashion made what could have been quite plain features that little more interesting. She was very short. That was something which has obviously always been about and so it didn’t trouble Vi anymore. The young man before her certainly towered above her quite a lot, but her confidence and ticked-off state didn’t make her seem much smaller. However it was obviously not her face, nor her apparel or height which drew the eyes of the men in the pub. It was merely the fact that she was of course female. And females had breasts. Vi certainly didn’t wear clothing which made this fact obvious and yet after a few beers men such as those behind the pub doors seemed to be able to ignore this fact.

Viola didn’t make much note of the other graduate’s declination of the cigarettes, but his comments on her recognizing him slightly interested him. It wasn’t just her; there was definitely recognition there. “No, I live in Wales so I wouldn’t recognize you here anyway. The few times I do grace London with my presence I’m normally on a gig or some sort of art show with Julie.” She didn’t bother to explain Julie being her best-friend. Too much unnecessary effort and information she didn’t feel the man needed to know. “But, nice to meet you Leland. I’m very thankful you aren’t a clone of those indoors.” She smiled slightly. Then she noticed the boy’s eyes linger on her hair for just a moments and chuckled once more. “This isn’t permanent, just put it in this morning. You wouldn’t be able to recognize me from my hair, ever. Changes every day. However…” She took a moment to peer slightly at the guy’s face. “Hogwarts?” She muttered softly. It seemed about right, but she couldn’t be sure. If Leland didn’t know of Hogwarts he would most likely just get a little confused at the word, which Vi could excuse as something other than the school for witchcraft and wizardry.

After this question she considered the guy’s next comment. It almost made her laugh once more and shine a little more light on her real easily-amused personality, but she suppressed this and replaced it with a wince. She certainly did not feel like returning and playing more songs. The pay… the pay could wait. She held no guilt; Vi rarely did. It wasn’t uncommon for her to do things that weren’t so allowed by the law and she was known by her friends to be a little on the rebellious side. Such behavior didn’t care much for guilt. And so in turn Viola didn’t worry about stealing the pub’s nightly performance and female to stare at. But her guitar…
Vi’s guitar had been with her since her eleventh birthday; since she had started at Hogwarts. In Greenfields, her orphanage, she’d shown a love for music that the staff at Greenfield’s had recognized immediately. When she’d left for Hogwarts they’d given her a parting gift; her guitar. It was battered, scratched, and very very old. But it was beautiful to Viola. Deep red in colour, she would never dream of replacing it with some shiny new commercial gadget. She rarely went anywhere without it. But now… now it was inside, beside her uncomfortable white stool and alcohol drink. She paused in replying to Leland’s question. “I would love that. But… wait one moment?”

With this, she disappeared around the corner of the pub. It had to be here somewhere…she’d certainly seen it on her arrival earlier in the day… yes- there! A small window was open and from it the noise of the pub could be clearly heard, raucous and rowdy. Two large green bins lay beneath the window and, ignoring the fact that she was wearing a skirt (Vi was never a fussy female like that) she hoisted herself onto the first bin, easily. It wobbled once. It wobbled twice, three times… and then found a position where it wobbled no more. Vi breathed a gentle sigh of relief and poked her head through the window carefully. It was situated to the side of the stage and just out of view of the bar. But she could see most of the crowd; they had their backs to her and the stage. Perfect. Ever so carefully, Vi poked her wand through the window. “Accio, guitar!” She murmured gently as a small smile played with the corners of her lips.

Moments later she was back in front of Leland, guitar in hand. Coming down from the bins had been a little difficult with her guitar; she’d toppled both bins over and caused an almighty crash that would have been easy for both Leland and those inside the pub to hear. Which meant that they had to get away, and fast. Vi rested one hand on Leland’s arm and pulled him gently across the street to an area where they would be difficult to be seen from the pub. “So, where did you have in mind?” Her voice was slightly breathless, and her eyes were just widened slightly. Her bright eyes twinkled happily. The little act she’d just taken part of had brought back more of the usual ‘Viola’; the quirk Vi that she was known and loved for. She hoisted her guitar on her back gently. Throughout all of this, she'd somehow kept her cigarette on hand and now took the last drag with an expression of almost love in her eyes, before she once more crushed the thing beneath her boot.