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last online May 9, 2024 19:16:20 GMT -7
WIZARDING ADULT
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Aug 20, 2021 21:09:17 GMT -7
Post by eleanor gwendolen ollivander on Aug 20, 2021 21:09:17 GMT -7
▲ Right. She sometimes forgot that there was a lot more about that part of the world than she actually knew. Though if they were going to compare her to any other shopkeepers in Horizont Alley, she probably had infinite muggle knowledge when put up against some of them. While she wanted to say Blishwick was one of the worst, it was probably the exact opposite. He had popped in a few days prior to blather on about some sort of attempt at expanding his business by putting a dating app on the magical net, similar to what the muggles did. The fact that he even knew what those words meant and how they applied blew her mind. She thought he just reached into a grab bag of purebloods and slapped them together in order to keep their lineages going. She was sure if Veronica was head of the family, she would have tried getting Nell to do that years ago. Just the thought of being forced into anything but work made her feel ill. Really she didn’t even have to worry about that sort of thing since Gideon was around to continue on the Ollivander name. “You’ve got a point there. Surprised she hasn’t already.” Nell could only imagine her sister chain-smoking in the front window of the shop, waiting to hear back from her would-be assassin about whether they successfully offed Frankie, a harmless squib. If her brother suddenly keeled over, Nell would absolutely go to the Aurors and say it was her sister that had done it. No one else had as much contempt for Frankie as she did. Obviously there was a lot of disappointment from their parents, but they were open and honest about how it wasn’t anything he could control. Veronica just viewed all of them as enemies for some reason. Her paranoia was completely unfounded, especially with the way things were now. Frankie seemed to think that her idea of the booze being tossed was ridiculous, and immediately went to work digging around in one of the shelves. The result was boxes of wands and unused, ancient vials of unknown liquids and objects being moved out onto the shop floor, before he finally produced a bottle…of port. Nell grimaced at the thought of drinking it, the liquid inside an unidentifiable color and substance. “Could just put everything back and pop down to the pub?” she offered, peering into one of the jars that had caught her attention. Why on earth were all of her ancestors obsessed with hoarding this stuff? It had absolutely zero use for wandmaking. MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0
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last online Apr 29, 2024 17:19:56 GMT -7
OTHER
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Sept 18, 2021 16:16:21 GMT -7
Post by Galen Francis Ollivander on Sept 18, 2021 16:16:21 GMT -7
DESPITE HIS DISGUST AT THE DARK, SUSPECT bottle of port, he was not completely deterred. Using the tale of his shirt to wipe the dust from the glass, he was trying to pry the cork from the neck with only marginal caution. It had just popped free when Nell took the opportunity to throw her silver sickle in to the ring. Frankie grinned, never one to turn down an opportunity to haunt a pub for the evening. Plus, he'd maybe missed his overbearing little sister.
"You're trying to butter me up," He muttered distractedly, tongue between his teeth as he tossed the cork in to the discarded leaves of paper on the floor. He looked down in to the neck of the bottle, the liquid looking about as noxious as it smelled. Frankie took a cautionary sniff, flinched, and upended the contents in to his mouth in a series of terrible judgements. The liquid was viciously sweet and seared the skin of his throat. One gulp and he bent at the waist, coughing dryly as all the moisture was drawn from his throat and deposited in to his stomach. "Oh, fuck-" He groaned, dropping the bottle at once and shaking his head.
After the blood had begun to run to Frankie's head again, and his breath ceased turning to steam in his mouth, he straightened. The bottle was leaking sticky port on the floorboards, but he overstepped it carelessly. "Right, which pub are we going to." He said, his voice a little hoarse at the corners but uncaring. He slung a passing arm around Nell's shoulders and pulled her out of the shoppe without a second glance. "I've missed this," He grinned. smelling a bit like old dust and ancient port. "You're buying first round." He tagged on the end. "I'm not a doctor anymore, you know."
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last online May 9, 2024 19:16:20 GMT -7
WIZARDING ADULT
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Sept 20, 2021 21:23:33 GMT -7
Post by eleanor gwendolen ollivander on Sept 20, 2021 21:23:33 GMT -7
▲ The sound of the suctioned pop that the cork made as her brother yanked it out of the dusty bottle port wasn’t nearly as scary as the smell that wafted out from its innards. It was foul; in the sense that she knew the sickly sweet smell, masked the decades (centuries?) since it had been placed inside the glass. Stepping clear from it and Frankie as she observed his display of brave stupidity, she was glad she did, as the dry hack that came out of him told her that she definitely did not want a sip of her own. “Well, I was trying to keep you alive. But I think you learned your lesson.” She watched as the port spilled out and onto the ground where Frankie had dropped it in his defeat, immediately knowing that there would have been a migraine inducing scream from their sister if she had seen the mess. With Frankie doubled over and going on about being fine with the pub idea now, Nell quickly whipped her wand at the bottle, corking it up and into her hand, where she plucked at its neck with two fingers and her thumb - carefully avoiding the ancient stick of liquid - and placed it back where it had been uncovered. “I’ve missed it too,” she said, now realizing that she was probably going to be a babysitter by the end of the night and her couch was going to be occupied in the morning and probably well into the afternoon. But she wouldn’t have offered up the idea if she hadn’t been fine with it. “Yeah, yeah. First round from all two of my wand sales this week,” Nell added. They were big sales though, each worth a dozen starter wands from Ollivanders. And now that she was thinking of her reason for being here in the first place, she made sure the delivery box that had gone to her was where the rest of the day’s deliveries were neatly stacked. Veronica would be none the wiser unless she suddenly gained the smelling ability of a bloodhound. “Ever think of getting into veterinary work? Cats and dogs seem easier than people.”MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0
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last online Apr 29, 2024 17:19:56 GMT -7
OTHER
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Nov 4, 2021 11:19:50 GMT -7
Post by Galen Francis Ollivander on Nov 4, 2021 11:19:50 GMT -7
FRANKIE HADN'T, IN FACT, LEARNT HIS LESSON. He was a man of poor personal choices, often choosing the exact opposite of what was likely best for him. However, he appreciated Nell's endless effort to steer on a path he simply could not see with his own two eyes. Even as a bold, invincible teen, Frankie was prone to getting himself in to terribly sticky situations. As if he liked to drop himself into rock bottom. As if he was comfortable there.
"You're a busy-buddy," Frankie commented as he watched Nell sweep the bottle up with a flick of her handcrafted wand. He kicked some loose papers just to make himself feel better about the clearing of the mess. Frankie had enjoyed the idea of his stern, humourless older sister discovering all of her precious decisions marred by a pesky bottle of port. Once again, Nell had cleaned up after her brother. It used to bother him - sometimes it still did - but Frankie had become overly familiar with Nell's penchant for interference. Just as he could not avoid trouble, Nell could not avoid fixing things.
"Don't... you try and make me feel sorry for you," Frankie teased Nell, pulling her close with his arm and giving her a good-natured shake. "I know how much those things go for." He smirked down at her, wiggling his brows mischievously. "An Ollivander knows how to sell up." He tittered tauntingly and turned his head back, scanning for the least offensive pub to duck in to. The first he laid eyes upon was a small, cramped slither of a pub and café. He didn't even read the sign as he dragged his little sister over the street hastily.
"Don't insult me," He replied with a grin, but there was a stiffness to the corners of his mouth. "Plus, I don't wanna do medical anymore." He shrugged, a finality to his voice as he ushered her forward into the dark little establishment. "Give us a pint, eh?" Frankie declared himself, lifting a familiar wave to the pot-bellied man behind the long, wooden bar. "And she'll have a port." He pinched her arm lightly, just a slight pull of her clothes as he took them right to the bar to sit - he had no interest on waiting for his drinks to be delivered.
*far too many pints and a couple of whiskey tipples later.*
"I just- I just think you should've opened it next door!" Frankie slurred, his vision blurring after more than a few hours downing pints and then whiskey's when his belly became too fully. He was referring to Nell's wand shop, having joked at first about Ronnie's pinched face if she'd turned up to work one morning and Nell's bespoke wand shop had opened next door. "Can- no, just imagine-" Eventually, due to the booze or his sadistic sense of humour, Frankie had decided he was dead serious. "I mean, sure, she might've had a massive stroke, but honestly!" He drew in a foamy, spirited breath. His head had become so light from laughing, and drinking, that he had laid it flat on the bartop and grinned like a mad man. "I'd give you all my save-savin's to see it."
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last online May 9, 2024 19:16:20 GMT -7
WIZARDING ADULT
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Nov 4, 2021 18:55:29 GMT -7
Post by eleanor gwendolen ollivander on Nov 4, 2021 18:55:29 GMT -7
▲ “I have to be,” Nell countered back, her slight annoyance in his comment absolutely sounding like Veronica for a moment. As much as she disliked the way their older sister treated both of them, there were still mannerisms that slipped through from time to time. Working under her for all those years had done a considerable amount of damage when it came to the way she interacted with others. Quick to be cross or getting frustrated over wands that simply didn’t want to go together. At least she didn’t absolutely blow her gasket like Veronica was prone to do simply because her coffee tasted funny in the morning or if a smidge of dust was on the counter still after being cleaned. That sort of anal retentiveness was absolutely the worst personality trait to have, and it was a complete mystery where her sister got it from. Neither of their parents were that bad and hadn’t treated any of them differently growing up. “She scares me to death, Frankie,” she stated. Nell didn’t think she had to tell him that since he always got the full brunt of it, but if she didn’t spend the time cleaning up the mess, it would be his ass on the line the following morning when Veronica inevitably found it. The ribbing continued, and she let it happen. He was going to be like this for the rest of the night because he was excited to finally be doing something with her. She couldn’t hold that against him. Locking herself away in her store and not coming out for days on end was definitely noticed by other family members too. It was strange – they didn’t care when Veronica had her manning the family store for four days straight without break, but now that she ran her own shop it was often times a problem. Frankie was pointing out that even he knew how to ‘upsell’ their wands, and that the prices of even two meant she made money. Technically he wasn’t wrong. What he didn’t know was that those were starter wands that were considerably cheaper than even the ones of the same make at Ollivander’s. Undercutting her sister by a little bit was the only way she was going to get customers right now. At the very least it would work until the word spread about how her work differed from the well-known style of the rest of her family. Talking shop with her brother was weird, but he did know just as much as she did, minus the actual wandmaking of course. His interests right now seemed to be in getting a drink, as was apparent as he dragged her into a bar that she couldn’t even tell was a bar from out on the street. “How do you find these places?” she said quietly as they took a seat at the bar, Frankie clearly knowing the bartender. She wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or concerned. “Please, no,” she corrected her brother, ordering a pint as well. No port for her. Not after earlier.
As was expected, Nell was only slightly buzzed and Frankie was barely coherent at the bar. The bartender had clued her in on when her brother’s limit was about to be reached, and then she allowed him to start slowly cutting the drinks down. The last shot was either going to be completely ineffective or hit him in a matter of minutes. She wasn’t sure where she wanted to be when that happened. “It’s perfectly fine where it is. She won’t burn it down with it over there.” Which was a sad truth. Veronica would have no problem causing havoc if Nell had opened in Diagon. Even though Horizont was only a stone’s throw away, there was enough distance and shops in between that an entire day’s worth of shopping separated their storefronts. If today’s mix-up with orders was anything to go by, having supplies delivered while both stores were next to one another would be literal hell. “And then she’d die and I would be expected to run both stores. Trust me, I do not want hers,” Nell stated firmly, though she was sure he wasn’t hearing a single word of what she was saying. He had reached the far beyond, and she could see that the curtains had started to be pulled already. Getting him to wherever he was staying these days was absolutely going to be a task and a half. “No, you have to pay the nice bartender with that. See?” she slapped her own money on the countertop for the appreciative man, and then leaned over to try and get one of her brother’s arms over her shoulders. The heaviness that came with the more he drank was absolutely astounding, and Nell could feel his entire weight pulling her down. “Come on, time to walk you home. Where are you living anyways?” If he didn’t have a place and the only other option was their parents or the couch in her workshop, he was going to be sleeping in the sawdust. MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0
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last online Apr 29, 2024 17:19:56 GMT -7
OTHER
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Sept 4, 2022 12:32:46 GMT -7
Post by Galen Francis Ollivander on Sept 4, 2022 12:32:46 GMT -7
SLUMPED IN HIS SEAT FRANKIE FOUND everything terribly funny. The booze made him forget about his terrible jobs, his awful sister, and his mediocre life. Though he knew his sister was being perfectly serious when she said she was afraid of Ronnie. Or how she spoke about their sister burning the shop down with just a hint of panic in her voice. Frankie snorted, Nell was a sensitive sort. "Calm down, Nellie." He reached over blindly and slapped a hand onto her arm, gripping it and shaking it lightly. "You worry too much."
Turning his face onto his hand, Frankie scrubbed his scruffy mouth across the back of his fingers. Once he felt the lightness fade from his head momentarily, he pulled back until he was sitting up once more. He huffed a laugh at the threat of running both shops single handed. "I'd run it into the ground for you," He promised her, blinking lazy, drunken eyes in her direction.
Vaguely, in his drunken stupor, Frankie was aware of money changing hands. The next thing he knew his arm was draped across a narrow set of shoulders, bowing under the weight of him as he slid from his seat and into her side. "Are you- am I about to be carry-carried home?" He hiccupped, sleepily blinking each of his eyes one at a time. "'Cause that's- 'm fine." He promised her, failing miserably. He was not, in fact, fine. Proven only by his lame attempt to stand on his own two feet, swaying dangerously before he knocked himself into a table lightly.
Guffawing, Frankie grabbed his sister once more as they exited the pub. The cold air felt incredible on his overheated skin, stinging his nose with every bitter breath he took. "Not living anywhere, t'be honest." Frankie attempted a shrug that just jostled them both in place as he stopped them both to lean against a closed shop window. "Just get me outta Diagon... there's a couch waiting for me in Islington." He lifted his brows and grinned at his little sister without saying very much else. But, there was something terribly grave about her face and he was struck by the memory of what she had said before.
"Are you-" Frankie cleared his throat, head clanging against the metal grating of the shop's door. "Did you mean it...?" He mumbled, tongue poking out to wet his dry, sticky lips. "Are you really scared of her?" He was frowning, his previous buzz so far out of reach he almost felt... melancholy. "Scared of Ronnie?" His nose wrinkled in distaste, like he'd tasted something sour. Ronnie had that effect on most people.
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