Morning. [Elliot]

[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

@elliot

10.03.2024

The early bird gets the worm, or something like that. Jimbo liked that philosophy during the busy months. October was not a busy month. The summer was like an incoming wave, ebbing and flowing on a weekly basis; sometimes he was busy, other times he wouldn’t get a new client in all week. The holidays and Valentine’s Day were when love was in the air, and ironically enough, when he suffered the most. He would take suffering from old age and weariness any day of the week if he could do a legit reading during any of those times. When people wanted love, he became useless. Last year he established the blind date roulette and that worked well to hold the lovebirds until they wanted something a little more serious.

But now it was slow season, and for once in his life, Jimbo was thankful for it. He could get into the shop whenever he felt like it and there would be no consequences. Anyone scared away by a closed sign didn’t really want to find the love of their life anyway. The same could be said about the ones that hovered around the entranceway but never fully committed to walking in. It was a daily occurrence for Jimbo, and the most he could do was put on a friendly smile and wave at them from behind the counter. Forcing a person into love would never succeed. Which was funny considering the amount of arranged marriages he was doing these days. One day those would die out, though hopefully it would be long past his time in the shop. Right now he used them to pay the bills and then some. Everything else he did on commission was money saved and spent on advertising, only giving him even more to do with as he pleased. Unlike his father and grandfather, Jimbo planned to keep doing this until he kicked the bucket. He had to after all, with Jameson not manifesting the ability and nobody to properly take over. Another fifty to sixty years of matching young folks together wouldn’t kill him anyways.

The chime of the door snapped Jimbo out of his daydream, the newspaper in his hands had begun to crumple under as he relaxed. “Welcome! What can I do for you today?” he said cheerily, paper now folded neatly and placed back underneath the counter. Customers in the early morning meant a busy day. A little action during the quiet times would make for a lively day.

[Deleted]

feed your head.

ELLIOT USED TO LOVE HIS OFFICE AT THE DAILY Prophet. It had become his home, seeing as his little flat was mostly bare. He'd burrowed deep in to the newspaper until it practically became a part of him. That's why its content mattered so much to him. Why he'd spent years perfecting a good story. But, lately, all Elliot wanted to do was get away.

His mind was constantly reeling. Was he doing the right thing? Leaking information would cost him his job and then some. He'd be written off as a journalist forever. Nobody would hire him but gossip rags and he'd rather die. So, why was he still passing information? Elliot wasn't sure, only that at that moment, it felt like it mattered more than his own self-preservation.

Ducking out of the office before the ink was dry on the next addition, Elliot found an excuse to distract himself. In his pocket, a roll of parchment tied with a pretty red ribbon. Jimbo Blishwick was not Elliot's favourite person, by far. Anybody who wasted their talents in observation to hook up Pureblood families and keep the line was no friend of his. A few scathing articles he'd written in the past said as much. But, his daughter had come to him a few months before and ever since he'd agreed to read over her article he'd received four more. With everything on his plate, he figured he'd pay her father a visit.

The headquarters for Blishwick's Matchmaking was as pristine as it was suffocating. A modern display of wealth, if ever he'd seen one. He pushed through the revolving doors with a knot of dread in his stomach. He hadn't been back there in years. Funnily enough, what surprised Elliot most was that Jimbo Blishwick was still the first person he saw. A figure of unnatural friendliness. Elliot had never trusted his cheery attitude.

Approaching the desk, Elliot tugged the wrinkled roll of parchment out of his back pocket. "Came to drop this off," He said blandly, the paper slapping against the shiny front desk. "Tell your kid I read a maximum of three armature articles a year." He sniped, blowing out a sigh through his nose. He was being harsh, there was no denying that. But, at least he'd gone to the kids father first. Which, as far as Elliot was concerned, was a gift in and of itself.

jimbo brian blishwick vi

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

@elliot

10.03.2024

Jimbo knew the man that walked into the store. He wasn’t a customer, or at least usually wasn’t one. He worked for the newspaper, a Mr. Elliot Nader, and had a lot of feelings about how the store made money. No matter. Jimbo was never bothered by scathing reviews and tabloids about his place. Those only fueled people’s interests in what he had to offer. If anything, those sorts of articles and pieces would lead to more profit than loss. The Daily Prophet couldn’t ignore his advertisements either, because he was one of the only ones that had a rotation of services throughout the year. He was almost positive that the only other business in the area was Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor. They were more similar than most even realized. Eating ice cream and falling in love rewarded the brain with the same sort of ecstasy and they both tended to waver and melt at times. But that was what happened to normal people and ice cream. The trick here was that he was never wrong when it came to love and the Fortescue’s had charmed never-melt ice cream to keep messes to a minimum on hot days. If Mr. Nader was here to listen to all of that, then Jimbo was prepared to let it all out. A new article would only boost business with the holiday season right around the corner.

But that didn’t seem to be the case today. A roll of parchment was placed onto the counter, and he stated that he was dropping it off. For Jameson. “So are these the three you read, or the ones you didn’t?” Jimbo inquired as he eyed the papers. He had only been aware of the one, in which he had accompanied her to the Prophet Head Office. It was bold to assume that the three amateur articles he was referring to all came from his daughter’s pen, but it was a bet Jimbo was willing to take. He knew that at least one of them had to be, as her reaction upon leaving the Prophet that day made it seem like they were going to read it. “You know, it was probably smarter for you to come to me about this first,” he commented, finally pulling the roll of parchment towards him. “Jameson is a stubborn girl. You wouldn’t have walked out of that conversation unscathed.” She got that from her mother. Jimbo had noticed it coming out over the last few years. The journalists needed a proper lashing from time to time though, and Nader here obviously didn’t want to put himself in that position. How smart of him.

[Deleted]

feed your head.

WHILE ELLIOT DEFINITELY HAD A LIMIT FOR HOW many articles written by a 16 year old girl that he was willing to read, well that didn't mean he hadn't read every one that had landed on his desk. He just enjoyed the sarcasm as he slapped the parchment down on the front desk and lifted his brows at Blishwick, as if expecting him to defend his precious little daughter.

"I read them..." He admitted after a moment, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the desk casually. "She's good." Which was about the only compliment he'd ever give a Blishwick, and only because she was a writer like he was. Not a fruity fortune teller. "A bit on the nose at times, but good." He shrugged, not unwilling to admit as much. He'd met Jimmie earlier in the year when she'd stormed the building to demand criticism, which had taken balls. The kind of balls only Blishwick's seemed to have.

"I got that the first time around. That's why I'm here." Elliot said with a rough laugh, shaking his head. "You know I think it's a good thing she's into journalism instead of match-making." Though Jimbo had not asked for his opinion, Elliot wasn't the type to hold back. "At least this way she's using all that fire for an honest living, right?" He quirked his brows, the bait only a little obvious as he pushed away with a tap on the top. "Tell her not to send another owl unless it's ground-breaking." 

jimbo brian blishwick vi

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

@elliot

10.03.2024

The corners of his lips curled up in a delightful expression when Nader admitted that he had read them. Plural. That was the sort of trap Jimbo had wanted him to step into, and probably not something journalists did often, which was admit outright without firing a few questions back in return. The only thing free between the two of them was Jimbo’s consultation service, in which he had an insanely high success rate of turning those into paying customers. Apparently knowing all intrigued people enough to toss money his way. At this point in time, the name alone should have had people lining up outside the door waiting for their turn. The other five Jimbo’s didn’t spend their entire lives messing around with matchmaking. They were doing work that no other witch or wizard could feasibly do, and with success that had never been seen before. And yet people still preferred getting their palms read and believing crystal balls over his brain power. Funny world.

“Only a bit? You’re being nice Mr. Nader,” Jimbo teased as he let out a chuckle. That was a pretty good way of describing Jameson. She was relentless when it came to digging up information. It made sense to him why she was placed into Gryffindor; the courage to never back down for what she believed in. If he hadn’t been so damn analytical himself back in the day, maybe he would have been placed the same way. Having the passion to pursue something you loved was hard to do a lot of the times, especially when handed the predicament of a family legacy. She was free of that though, which probably explained a lot of it.

Nader seemed to have a few opinions on that topic as well, causing Jimbo to lean up against his counter as he listened. A few times throughout it, he felt like chiming in and correcting the reporter, to explain that this was an honest living as long as the clients were honest with him. Being placed with a perfect match in a world where people found one-night stands and muggle mobile applications as their go to sources for a relationship was practically a godsend for the ones that were tired of keeping up with the trends. That was what Jimbo was here for. Nader didn’t seem to understand that part though. “That would unfortunately be a waste of parchment and my owl’s time, Mr. Nader,” Jimbo piped up when it looked like the other man was preparing to leave. “Unless you want her to go to a competitor. I’m sure there are plenty of bit-rate newspapers and magazines that are willing to let her freely express herself when the Prophet will not.” It wasn’t so much of a threat as it was a fact – ticking off his daughter wasn’t a smart thing for Nader to do, and turning away her pieces was only going to get her to write even more.

[Deleted]

feed your head.

ELLIOT WOULDN'T HAVE CALLED HIMSELF 'NICE', but Blishwick had to keep up the sunny pretence while in the company of a journalist. The family was, after all, so old that reputation was about the only thing keeping his business alive - as far as Elliot was concerned. But, Jimbo wasn't a coward either, which Elliot could easily see as he almost turned his back. Only to be drawn back by the light threat in the match-makers tone.

"If she knows what's good for her..." Elliot said, his brows raised confidently. "No other paper will worth her time." Elliot had always coveted his position at the Prophet. It was perhaps the most well-known, respected newspaper in the British wizarding world. Even the ones who claimed to hate it still had an owl-subscription drop it on their breakfast table every morning. If only to try and tear it to shreds.

"But, hey." He reached over and grabbed a copy of the Prophet which was splayed out with an array of magazines on the counter top. There for waiting customers to peruse at their leisure. He flicked out the pages and turned to the back where there was a very large page advertising Blishwick's Match Making, apparently there was a Blind Dating event on the distant horizon. "At least then you might be able to hold on to that cushy advertisement spot a little longer, eh?" He laid it flat and smeared a hand over the happy couples cheesing faces. "Full page spread..." He squinted, a stiff smile creasing his cheeks. "I think we're very good to you, Jimbo." 

jimbo brian blishwick vi

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

@elliot

10.03.2024

Jimbo wasn’t sure if he could call it a trap, but he had certainly laid out the groundwork to pull Elliot Nader back into the conversation regardless of whether the journalist knew it or not. He liked to think the other man was smart, as most in his position probably were at the Prophet, but Jimbo had seen all sorts of people and experienced every little nuance there was to the human brain. So whether or not he had a leg up on their debate about Jameson going to another paper with her work was yet to be seen. But Jimbo did corner the other man exactly where he wanted him, and the words that came out of his mouth were the ones he wanted to hear. “Sounds like a job offer. Can I quote you on that?” he said quickly, not allowing a beat to be missed. Their jobs were more similar than Nader probably wanted to admit. They listened to people talk all day about their lives, or whatever, and applied that to their work. While they definitely did different tasks with that information, they were both in the public eye and Jimbo knew how to work that. As aforementioned, he had seen a lot about how people thought and processed things. A little game like this was right up his alley, especially if he could work his daughter into the mix and maybe get her a career out of it.

Nader seemed to be waffling between talking and deciding whether to leave or not, and Jimbo eyed him curiously as the other man grabbed that morning’s copy of the Prophet off of the counter top, flipping it over to Jimbo’s own advertisement. His smile looked pretty darn good in that one. He had been rather proud of the recent ad for the blind dates and it had paid off very, very well over the last twelve months. “Oh you definitely have been kind to me. And your boss was to my father, and his boss before him to my grandfather,” Jimbo smiled. “I don’t know how much you dabble in the Prophet’s finances, but a full-page like that doesn’t come cheap. Our agreement is mutually beneficial. Unless you’d prefer to see Gamblin’ Galleons Casino there. Personally, I think love is a more flattering color on the Prophet than greed is.”

[Deleted]

feed your head.

SUDDENLY VERY AWARE THAT HE'D WALKED himself right in to that particular wasps nest. Elliot had to give Jimbo credit, he could talk himself in circles. But, he was also very used to this particular chatter. He interviewed people for a living, but then again so did Jimbo in a way. They were well matched. "C'mon, Jimmy," He said, tilting his head with a very small smirk. "We both know this is strictly off the record." He tapped the table top, knowing that a written agreement was better, but denial was handy too.

In reality, Elliot wasn't even really allowed to review outsider content, not without his bosses explicit permission. It was a conflict of interest. Even if Jameson was a prospective reporter, she was still a long way away. Jimbo probably knew that, but he was a trier - like his daughter. But, unlike his daughter, his methods were tried and true. Blishwick's business spanned well before Elliot's time, but that didn't mean he respected it. The advertisement was garish, but eye catching. He tilted his head so-so and let Jimbo have it.

"Finance isn't really my gig." He said, and neither was advertisement, hence that harsh display in front of him. "I'm not a salesman, I'm a journalist." He folded the newspaper up and tucked it under his arm, he was taking it with him. "I don't care what I see," He said, shrugging his shoulders. "You're both selling the same shite at different prices." He tapped the desk top and took a half step away.

"See that's where we disagree, Jimmy." He pointed out, pressing his lips thinly. "Love is probably the greediest addiction of all." Shrugging, he gestured out with both hands before turning his back with a dismissive wave, the paper still under one arm. "Tell Jimmie point 2 I said hi." In actuality, he hoped he didn't, because the last thing that kid needed was any more reason to send him her stockpile of pending articles. 

- END ELLIOT 

jimbo brian blishwick vi

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

@elliot

10.03.2024

Jimmy…he hadn’t heard that nickname since his school days. Upon graduation, it was right back to Jimbo. There had to be consistency in the business, and the customers were there to see Jimbo Blishwick, not Jimmy, Jim, or James. Still, Jimbo maintained his award-winning smile, the one that was matched by the advertisement currently plastered on the prophet. “And we both know off the record never actually means off the record,” he shrugged. That was an impossible feat in his business. Once a client told him something, whether it was about their passions or dreams, it was locked into their profile and there was nothing he could do to remove it. Even those ‘off the record’ pieces were important in the end; they could be the extra tidbit that decided between Person A and Person B. He doubted Elliot had the power to refuse free information, he was a journalist after all. So regardless of what the other man said, Jimbo was still going to tell his daughter that it looked like the stars were aligning in the right manner. Another paper or two sent Elliot’s way wouldn’t hurt him either. It was his job to read and write articles after all.

“Careful,” Jimbo warned, “You wouldn’t want your readers to hear you saying that you ‘don’t care’ what you see. They might think you’re a lazy paper.” Elliot’s addition that the casino and the love business were the same was fair, but still off. Love was an addiction, but in Jimbo’s world, it was the good kind. Not even a safe addiction, like caffeine, could compare to love. If he failed at his job and led people off to the wrong ‘One’, then he would be greedy. But he didn’t do that. Whether Elliot knew that or not was none of his concern, because the Blishwick advertisement was going to be in the Prophet permanently, placed precisely where it had always been. “We’ll agree to disagree on that one,” he flashed a wink at the reporter as he turned to leave the shop. “And don’t worry, I’ll let her know. I’d expect a new piece or two around the holidays, if I were you. She doesn’t like working in the shop, so I’m sure she’ll be writing during that time.” The warning was the least Jimbo could do, because he knew there was no stopping his daughter when it came to this. With the chime of the shop door closing, Jimbo tapped on the counter satisfactorily, happy with the outcome of the conversation. He would have the draft up a letter for Jameson later in the day, telling her about the encounter. She would probably like that.

[The End]