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last online Mar 27, 2024 15:16:27 GMT -7
OTHER
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Jan 20, 2019 10:35:42 GMT -7
Post by Galen Francis Ollivander on Jan 20, 2019 10:35:42 GMT -7
STORMING OUT OF OLLIVANDER'S WAS QUITE typical for Frankie. He'd only been back about a month, but his eldest sister had a demeanour he simply couldn't stand. And it was mutual, but the way she ordered him around - like a hired house-elf, or even less than, truly infuriated him. Sometimes, he just needed some air. So, he'd headed toward the Leaky Cauldron with the intention of drinking himself numb before heading back to tell her just what he thought of her. He didn't get that far.
At first, from a distance, Frankie saw the bike. A beautiful, vintage motorcycle that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He hadn't seen a bike like that since he'd work on his own, it caught his eye immediately and filled him with a sickeningly nostalgia. The second thing was not so typical, as a sweet perfume tickled his nostrils and a redhead barged past him with a very dangerous looking heel clutched like a weapon in one hand. Frankie stood very still, as if she might turn and use it on him should he move, and watched as she charged towards the motorcycle and stabbed her shoe in to the back wheel purposefully.
It was over in seconds, Frankie's mouth hanging open, the woman wrenching her weaponized heel from the rubber with unusual strength and flipping her hair before she walked away. Frankie couldn't believe his eyes, waiting until she was out of sight to wander closer and inspect the damage that remained. His heart twisted a little at the rapidly deflating tyre, she must have used some kind of magic to do so much damage with such a small spike, but he hadn't seen her with a wand. Shaking his head, he tugged at the knees of his trousers before bending in to a crouch, hissing through his teeth when he did. Whatever the owner had done to incite such rage, it must have been epic.
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last online Mar 28, 2024 3:35:02 GMT -7
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Jan 20, 2019 21:14:06 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2019 21:14:06 GMT -7
11.21.2024 Apartment hunting – that was what had brought Harper to Diagon Alley today. She had struck out time and time again in the muggle part of London, mostly because she couldn’t provide proof that she had a real job and a source of income. Technically the Ministry had departments to help with that, but she didn’t want to go through the trouble of spending all day in an office to maybe get called to fill out the proper paperwork for all of that. She had been hoping that whatever place she had picked would be deplorable enough to not really care, as long as she paid them. Some of the places she looked at were, but they still needed an initial proof of income, and that was where she got snagged every single time. Even they couldn’t take a risk on a nineteen year-old that, on paper, looked like she was unemployed and without a proper guarantor. Her parents had offered to sign whatever should she need them to, but Harper wanted to do it all on her own. So apartment hunting in Diagon Alley was the last resort. It was more expensive than in muggle London but it also wasn’t the end of the world. Most of the places she had looked at had spots for her motorcycle and easy access to muggle roads, and that was basically all Harper needed.
The one she had just finished at was one of those, and her motorcycle had been placed right outside the alleyway to where she would be parking it in the event she ended up signing the lease. The leasing agent had handed her more than enough paperwork to look over, mostly containing information on the surrounding shopping district (which Harper thought was silly, considering anyone worth their salt knew the shops in Diagon front to back) and the details to the unit she had just walked out of. It even allowed pets, which was a step in the right direction for her. First came the lease signing and then the dog. Those were the barriers she was creating to keep Ondina as far away from her as possible.
Saying goodbye to the agent, she stepped back out into the alley and headed towards her bike, stopping short of it when she noticed a man crouched down and inspecting the back wheel. What on earth was he doing back there? Confused, Harper approached him slowly, “Can I help you?” she asked, following his gaze down to her tire, finally noticing that it had a hole in it and was starting to droop severely. “Seriously?”
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last online Mar 27, 2024 15:16:27 GMT -7
OTHER
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Feb 3, 2019 16:36:58 GMT -7
Post by Galen Francis Ollivander on Feb 3, 2019 16:36:58 GMT -7
THE LAST THING FRANKIE EXPECTED WAS FOR HIM to be caught at the scene of the crime. Too busy inspecting the chrome plating and rims, he wasted precious time to escape. At the sound of her voice, he stood up too quickly, his head spinning as he cleared his throat and tried to look casual. It was not very effective as the young woman looked incredibly suspicious, her brows pulled together as she inspected him and then the bike. He almost wanted to step in front of it, cover the evidence, because how could he possibly explain what he'd seen?
"Uh..." He stuttered, hands on his hips as he laughed awkwardly. "I can explain?" He shook his head rapidly, sucking in a breath as he gestured at the deflated tyre and then the street, which was deceptively empty now. Of course it would be. "I mean, you're not gonna believe this..." He rubbed at his scruffy beard. "But, this... mental redhead." He gestured with an open palm. "She uh, she came out of nowhere and she stabbed your tyre." His own brows were pulled together in disbelief. "With... her... her heel?" His mouth pulled in to a grimace and he felt his own eyes widen, head shaking slowly. "It's mental, I know, but it's true."
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last online Mar 28, 2024 3:35:02 GMT -7
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Feb 24, 2019 12:11:29 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Feb 24, 2019 12:11:29 GMT -7
11.21.2024 Harper wasn’t sure what looking back and forth between the man and her bike was going to accomplish, but she kept doing it regardless. Pretty soon here she was going to give herself whiplash. Answers didn’t typically have a habit of appearing out of thin air, but so far it was looking like the culprit was standing right in front of her. The only odd part was that Harper didn’t notice any pointy objects in the man’s hands but that certainly didn’t exclude any number of piercing spells that came to mind. The other question she had: why? She had never seen this man before, and unless this was a case of extreme road rage where she may have cut him off at some point earlier in the day, she had no idea what would have prompted him to murder her tire.
She didn’t have to say much more to have the man scrambling for words, and he immediately started trying to explain the situation. The best part was when he said she wouldn’t believe it, causing a judgmental laugh to pop out of her. “Please, I’m all ears,” Harper interrupted as he seemed to be looking for an excuse. Giving him the chance to lie would only make it easier to bring the law down on him. A quick prior incantato spell on his wand would reveal he had done the damage. The more the man spoke though, Harper began to realize that she did indeed have the wrong person, the smug look on her face vanishing entirely.
Biting down on her tongue so as to avoid cursing her sister’s name as loudly as humanely possible in the middle of Diagon Alley, Harper let out a long sigh. “I believe you. Sorry for jumping to conclusions without hearing you out,” she apologized, hoping that was enough for the guy. “Sounds like it was my sister. She’s uhh…mental, like you said.” Calling Ondina that was being nice. Her sister was a bitch.
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last online Mar 27, 2024 15:16:27 GMT -7
OTHER
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Feb 25, 2019 6:16:02 GMT -7
Post by Galen Francis Ollivander on Feb 25, 2019 6:16:02 GMT -7
FRANKIE HAD EXPECTED TO DO A LOT MORE convincing, but it had taken very little for the strawberry blonde to get off his back. His shoulders slumped, having tensed in anticipation and he rubbed at his nose in confusion. "Uh... that was easy." He blurted in surprise. Not once had he thought it would be some spurned relative, but once she said it and he had another good look at her it made sense. They had the same pale skin, and though the culprits hair was more flaming, Frankie figured it went with her personality.
"She... looked it," He muttered, stepping delicately around the subject lest she jump to her sisters defence. He'd never let anyone talk down about his little sister, but she was objectively better than him in every way. She deserved that defence. "What'd you do to deserve," He gestured awkwardly towards the flattened tyre. "All that?" He asked, knowing it was probably a landmine but stepping on it anyways. It was too weird not to, he was undeniably curious.
Shifting from foot to foot, he said, "I'd help you fix it." More because he missed his own bike than an actual desire to do so. "But, I'm guessing there's a spell for a burst tyre." This was said with a shade of disappointment, tenting his brows as he looked at the bike with envy in his eyes.
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last online Mar 28, 2024 3:35:02 GMT -7
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Feb 25, 2019 23:04:09 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Feb 25, 2019 23:04:09 GMT -7
11.21.2024 The man could say that again. It was always easy to hop off of someone else’s back when Ondina came into the equation; everything was always her fault, and even if she wasn’t directly the cause of it, she usually had her pointy, poisonous fingers dipped in it somewhere. Mental didn’t even come close to being the correct descriptor for her sister, but it got close enough. The only thing wrong with Ondina was that she had a mind of her own and refused to do anything for anyone but herself. Watching the misery everyone around her went through simply because she existed was the high that replaced the oxygen she always lacked. At least that was how Harper viewed it. What actually went inside the younger Weasley’s head was probably a hundred times worse than Harper could actually fathom, and she didn’t want to know what her sister was capable of. Being a terror on a daily basis was good enough.
“Existing,” Harper said rather frankly, and it scared to hear it coming out of her own mouth. It wasn’t always that way, but in recent years it had definitely escalated to an all-time high. Having others to torture at Hogwarts was probably what changed it all. Harper had never seen her sister in action while they were both at school, but she had certainly heard about the aftermath. “Or moving out of the house. She seems to forget that apparition is a thing,” Harper added, shrugging. Popping her motorcycle’s tires was only going to slow her down so much; the only reason she brought the bike out every day was to keep it from falling victim to Ondina while left alone. Nowhere was safe now though, it seemed.
The man offered to help fix it, adding that it was probably easier to use a spell on it. That was true – she didn’t have a spare on her because the plan for a flat had always been to use a repairing charm on the rubber and then filling it back up with an air charm. They were both easy enough, and unless she broke down on a busy city street, she was safe to cast either no matter where she was. Diagon was fine for both, obviously. “I’m in a bit of a rush, so the spell way might be the smart way,” she agreed, extracting her wand from her pocket. “Might need an extra pair of hands to make sure it’s all good though. And it sounds like you know a little about replacing tires?” She could have been wrong, but the offer was still helpful. If it had been a flat car tire, she would have been absolutely useless.
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last online Mar 27, 2024 15:16:27 GMT -7
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Mar 28, 2019 8:04:55 GMT -7
Post by Galen Francis Ollivander on Mar 28, 2019 8:04:55 GMT -7
IT WAS FUNNY HOW FRANKIE HAD A WAY OF seeking out people with familial dysfunction. It wasn't as if he had enough to deal with when he had his own, he had to go ahead and witness others too. And the girl reeked of it. From the weary acceptance of her torn tyre, to the instance in which she knew just who had committed such a crime. He'd only asked because it seemed polite, but her answer was all too familiar.
"Can relate," He said in self deprecation, hands tucking in to his back pockets as he scoffed lightly. Though his stare was a little more attentive as she spoke of moving and all with that signature bitterness. He wore the same brand every day almost, especially now that he was living at home. "Well, hope your moving nice and far." He teased, looking at her bike and clicking his tongue. "For you and your bikes benefit." Though, Frankie knew that there wasn't enough space in the world to outrun a family's scorn. It always had a way of pulling him back, kicking and screaming.
And while he'd offered his help completely selfishly, he hadn't expected any kind of agreement. No wizard or witch had the patience to put up with a squib. He barely held down his job at the club as it was. Frankie watched her carefully as she pulled out her wand, his shoulders almost jerking before he reminded himself that they were in Diagon Alley - this was not amiss at all! And he hated it all the more because of it. "I- I can take a look for you, sure." He said, nodding his head in what he hoped was not complete eagerness. He tried to play it cool as he rubbed his dry, callused hands together.
"I have- had a bike," Frankie began, his nose wrinkling as he remembered that this was no longer the case, really. His parents had surely sold it off while they were sorting through his very muggle belongings. Either way, he hadn't seen it in a very long time. "I was fixing up an old Triumph," He explained, clearing his throat before he added. "Before I moved back home." This was said with a tad too much forced casualness. His smile stiff at the corners.
Frankie looked back to the tyre for something to do, crouching down beside it once it had been magically repaired, his fingers probing where the heel had punctured the tough rubber. It was like new. A slight dulling of the track, but it was so small he barely even noticed. The road definitely wouldn't. "Good as new," He muttered, and there was an aftertaste of awe as he pulled back. Rubbing his fingers on the thigh of his dirty jeans as he stood back up. "It's like it never even happened." A crease between his brows. How could he hate magic so much, and still be impressed by its capabilities.
Standing back on the pavement, Frankie thought he'd be pleased to see the bike go now. Better that he forget how good it felt to wield a wrench and tinker. The smell of oil and leather stinging his nostrils. And yet he couldn't help but joke, "Hey, you ever need a babysitter for that beast..." He pointed a thumb at himself, grinning slightly. "I'm your guy." Although that probably wasn't exactly true, he couldn't protect it from an angry witch without any magic magic behind him.
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last online Mar 28, 2024 3:35:02 GMT -7
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Apr 4, 2019 21:41:32 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Apr 4, 2019 21:41:32 GMT -7
11.21.2024 An awkward chuckle came out of her mouth as the man said he understood what she meant by her sister’s unreasonable rage. Maybe he knew Ondina. Most people did in some capacity, somehow. Her favorite thing was when she told them she was her sister, their shocked expressions at the different temperaments in the Weasley girls being well worth it. “I hope so too. I don’t think she can take a tire change every day,” Harper laughed, patting the bike’s seat a few times. If Ondina was going to play ugly, hiding the bike was top priority. Her sister had always disliked the thing, no thanks to Harper dropping one on her when they were younger. It had been a mistake but everything was permanent with Ondina.
The man agreed that he could give it a look with her, and Harper flashed him a smile in thanks. His experience, of apparently owning one at some point in time, was greatly appreciated. It made sense now why he had hung around even after Ondina flew in and out of her assassination mission. “Really? I’ve always wanted to fix up a real old one…my grandpa has one sitting around in his workshop, I just don’t have the space for it.” And her psycho sister would be irate if there was suddenly another motorcycle sitting in the driveway at home. Harper had contemplated placing a Gemini curse on it to keep Ondina away, but decided it would be more of a hassle turning it on and off every day than was actually worth it.
Her series of spells had the tire full of air and sealed within no time, the only hiccup being that she almost forgot about checking the pressure. “Almost like magic,” Harper said, laughing at her own cheesy joke. She couldn’t not say that when the chance presented itself. “If you want,” she began, flipping her wrist around to check the time on her watch, “I have a little bit of time still, if you want to give it a go?” Harper even had a second helmet stashed away on the bike as a just in case. The thing though, was that it was hot pink, far-flung from her normal black one.
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last online Mar 27, 2024 15:16:27 GMT -7
OTHER
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Apr 27, 2019 14:02:14 GMT -7
Post by Galen Francis Ollivander on Apr 27, 2019 14:02:14 GMT -7
FRANKIE AGREED. THE OLD BIKE DESERVED AN easy life, and clearly it did not have that while under the watchful eye of the mental redhead and her stiletto. Either way, Frankie could tell there was a lot of unspoken resentment between her and her sister. It was something he knew only all too well. He imagined Ronnie would be happy to do something similar, if given the change. But, neither seemed to have the guts to broach the subject fully, especially with a stranger. Frankie wasn't exactly known as 'the sharing type'. He stayed for the bike.
"Yeah," Frankie said with a fond nod, though it was bittersweet. He missed his old bike as if it were an estranged family member. An old friend. He hadn't had the courage to ask his parents what they had done with it, afraid of what they might say. Had it been scraped in its infancy? Or had they simply left it in his old rented garage to rot, and eventually, be sold for scrap? He didn't know, and he doubted he'd have the balls to find out for quite some time. "Me neither." He admitted, scratching a phantom itch on his arm as his mouth twisted to one side. "Guess that's what I get for moving back home."
Looking back at her with a slight huff, his own polite response, but there was a shadow cast over his expression. His eyes dull. Magic was marvellous, but oh how he burned bitterly at how selective it could be. A part of him couldn't help but hiss 'cheater' in the back of his mind. However, Frankie's expression soon slackened as she offered, quite kindly, to give him a ride there and then. He'd missed the rumble of a bike under him. The thrum of power that rattled his bones and spiked his adrenaline until his head spun.
"Uh, sure." He said, shifting from foot to foot as he played it cool - badly. He reached a hand up rub at the scruff on his face. Technically, Frankie should be back at the shop - cleaning out fireplaces and old dusty corners. And his eyes did cast over there, maybe with a hint of guilt. Then he remembered Ronnie's scathing stare, like he was a misbehaving house-elf. "Definitely." He added, drawing in a deep breath, the beginnings of a smile curling one corner of his mouth. "If you're sure..."
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last online Mar 28, 2024 3:35:02 GMT -7
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May 19, 2019 21:56:17 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on May 19, 2019 21:56:17 GMT -7
11.21.2024 The somber sound of his words as he was clearly thinking about his own bike had Harper almost regretting that she had brought up her possible opportunity at building a second one for herself. It sounded spoiled the more she ran it through her head, and oversharing her plans for it didn’t help at all. “I kind of understand,” she started, immediately regretting that she was opening her mouth again so soon after telling herself she was done with the topic. “It’s hard to live around here and have a bike. I’m sort of in the market for an apartment right now, and the parking situation is brutal.” The only difference in her situation was that she could leave it at home (a risky thing to do with Ondina still lurking on the other side of the curtains) or at any of her relatives’ places and have easy access to ride it whenever she wanted. Not everyone had that option.
But away with the negative thoughts! Going for a ride was the perfect way to clear her mind, and her offer was still standing as the guy looked to be thinking it over. Harper figured it was the least she could do after he had helped her with the tire and standing by it after Ondina tried to kill the poor thing. “Positive,” she flashed a smile at him. “As long as you don’t mind this being on your head?” She pulled the hot pink helmet from a magicked storage pouch she kept on the side of the seat. “Black is more my color, but that didn’t keep the salesperson from trying to shove this one into my hands while I left.” Literally nobody wanted a pink helmet, let alone one that was a freaking beacon and could be seen from all directions. She liked to be taken seriously around other motorcyclists, and she already had enough trouble looking like she was still fifteen years old. “I’m Harper, by the way,” she added quickly as she held the helmet out for him. “Figure we’re going to be getting pretty cozy here in a second, so you should know my name.”
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last online Mar 27, 2024 15:16:27 GMT -7
OTHER
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Aug 2, 2019 7:59:09 GMT -7
Post by Galen Francis Ollivander on Aug 2, 2019 7:59:09 GMT -7
FRANKIE FELT LIKE HE WAS OVERSHARING BUT he was so starved for typical, non magical contact that just talking about his motorcycle was a blessing. He couldn't stop himself, even if thinking about it made him miserable. The girl rattled on and Frankie forced himself to listen instead of sloping in to a pit of regret for opening his mouth at all, nodding firmly. "Yeah, wizards don't exactly accommodate muggle transport, you know?" He said this with a bitter resentment, his nostrils flaring slightly as he thinned his lips. She didn't know what he was. Frankie didn't really want her to. She'd look at him differently. They always did.
Adrenaline surged up Frankie's spine as he thought about being on a bike again. There was nothing like it, nothing as freeing and simple as the feel of the wind on his face and an engine rumbling under him. Magic was always suspiciously quiet. He never liked that. In fact, Frankie was so excited that he didn't even realise the pocket under her seat was magically large as she reached in and pulled out a bright, hot pink helmet. Frankie's chin lifted as he barked a laugh, shaking his head as he reached over and grabbed it without hesitation.
"What's wrong with pink?" He asked soberly, quirking his brows. "Brings out my eyes." He shoved it over the top of his head, bucking the strap and slapping the top reflexively. It was so bright it hurt his eyes, but he didn't care once it was on his head.
"Frankie." He said in an afterthought, eyeing up the seat as they both moved towards it. Frankly, he didn't really care how close they had to get, and she didn't seem too bothered either. In fact, she was pretty good looking and she drove a wicked bike. Frankie would plaster himself to a trolls back if it meant he got to ride a motorcycle again. "Just get me the hell out of here, please." He said with on a half laugh, his nostrils flaring. "I fucking hate this place." It was a brutal piece of honesty, and Frankie had truly meant it. Unable to stop himself.
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last online Mar 28, 2024 3:35:02 GMT -7
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Aug 12, 2019 17:14:03 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Aug 12, 2019 17:14:03 GMT -7
11.21.2024 Harper felt a small laugh bubble out of her as she tried to imagine Ondina taking a muggle bus or taxi. For the latter, she would complain about how much the car smelled and how it was causing her ‘problem’ to act up. The former would have too many people, and the end result would be exactly the same. Her parents would be able to handle themselves although her dad tended to look like a homeless man, always sporting thick layers of clothing and covered in grime and soot from the dragons. Most bus drivers would have a hard time letting him on. “Thankfully my family is sort of understanding than most magical ones are. Except my sister,” she rolled her eyes. “But buses and cars are cool! They’re nothing compared to this though,” Harper added, slapping the seat of her motorcycle. Buses were confining, that she would agree with Ondina on, and cars lacked the freedom of driving. Even the exotic kinds that could hit top speeds. Motorcycles were one and only true love.
“You’re right, it does,” Harper contemplated the helmet and his eyes as he popped it onto his head. “Adds to your rugged handsomeness, I’d say. The sort you don’t want to mess with because he’s wearing a pink helmet.” The kind that would piss Ondina off if she brought him round the house, only to prove some sort of point. Her sister would hate anything to do with Harper regardless, but it would still be pretty entertaining. “Nice to meet you Frankie,” she said as she snapped her own helmet on. “And you don’t have to tell me twice. Hold on.” Kicking the motorcycle on, Harper balanced the distribution of weight between the two of them to a point that felt right. Giving it a few quick revs, she rolled effortlessly down the back road out of Diagon Alley that would push them back into Muggle London.
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