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 Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2020 10:46 pm
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xxxx X xxxxAbout The Theaterxxxx X xxxx
The Hobgoblin Theater Co. was founded in late 2048 after an aggressive campaign by its founders to secure investors and an appropriate location.
Siblings Cel and Maura devised the plan to open it while in school after becoming the co-captains of Hogwart's Drama Club
Its name is a reference to the character of "Puck" in A Midsummer Night's Dream as an homage to William Shakespeare
The theater specializes in using 'hidden' magic to perform effects that can delight muggles without technically breaking the SoS
It does, however, frequently put on more magical productions for all-magical audiences
xxxx X xxxxMaura McDonaldxxxx X xxxx
- - -
xxxx X xxxxCeallachan O'Madaidhinxxxx X xxxx
Co-Founder Cel began his official career in theater while attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a member and later Co-Captain of the drama club.
His unofficial introduction to the stage, however, happened much younger, when his father began teaching him to play guitar at the age of five.
He is an experienced singer, dancer, and actor, as well as being versed in playing several instruments and working back- and off-stage.
xxxx X xxxxJack Lovettexxxx X xxxx
- - -
xxxx X xxxxSparrow Winchester II xxxx X xxxx
Actress Sparrow Kiya Winchester has been in the theatre since she was old enough to speak– from her elementary theatre school to Drama Club at Hogwarts, she has performed in over a dozen productions. Usually recognizable by her colourful and constantly changing hairstyles, Sparrow is a lifelong singer, dancer, and actress. Prior to joining the Hobgoblin Theatre, she served as director and captain of the Hogwarts Drama Club, and co-writer for the musical Violence and Vodka. |
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2020 10:54 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 07, 2022 12:59 am
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 ♥♡ SPARROW KIYA WINCHESTER20 years || Gryffindor alumna || pureblood
_______________
The first time Sparrow had wandered into the aisles of the Hobgoblin Theatre, Sparrow had been 12. She had cartwheeled down the aisle, climbed onto the stage, pirouetted to the centre of the stage, and held herself on her toes, staring out at her friends from the Drama club. ”I’m going to star on this stage!” she’d declared. Two years after that, Jack Lovette had offered her the Captainship of the Drama Club. ”Right! And I’m going to put on four amazing productions that will blow your mind and have the Hobgoblin Theatre throwing offers at me!”. She had worked hard at those productions, and even stopped by every winter and summer break to volunteer and visit with her friends and fellow professionals: she offered herself as a background singer or dancer if she was early enough in the production schedule, a rehearsal buddy if needed, or just as an usher or snack vender to help support the theatre.
The first time Sparrow was missing was Summer Break of 2055– it had been the year she graduated, and when Sparrow was younger, she’d tell them that she’d come running in the day after the Hogwarts Express returned, waving a resume that would leave their jaws on the floor and armed with an audition set that would leave them without doubt. Instead, she had spent that day asleep, cocooned in blankets and nightmares. The summer had passed. The next season passed. Sparrow had shown up to see a few of the productions, but had just been just polite and apologetic.
She had gotten back into service projects and working on Violence and Vodka with Yukon. Late in March this year, Cenek had dragged Sparrow out to the Hobgoblin during the afternoon–not for a matinee, but simply to see the empty theatre and meet with her friends. She stood on the stage and sang –As if We Never Said Goodbye from Sunset Boulevard. It had rekindled…something in her. Enough to start opening up to the mind healer.
Unfortunately, depression wasn’t a one-moment fix and even after that, Sparrow dragged her heels on writing up her resume and application. She’d watched and laughed at the Hobgoblin’s production of the The Fountain of Fair Fortune at the Art Festival in August, but only stuck around long enough to say hello briefly.
She thought she would stop by the next Monday. But the day turned to weeks and the weeks to months. She no longer bothered with excuses. But finally, she had sent Hestia to the theatre with a complete resume and application. Maybe they hadn’t seen the application yet. As far as Sparrow knew, she was presumably just here to lunch and coffee with her old friend and mentor. From the floo, she wandered towards the stage and took a spot at the back row of the gallery, gazing around and spacing out as she waited for Jack.
It's the same--beautiful and incredible, filled with dreams and hopes...Can I really come back if I'm not that anymore? I'm not the Sparrow they remember...but maybe?
_______________
setting The Hobgoblin Theater, December 2056 || with Fellow theatre kids, awaiting Jack
appearance 5'7", soft and squishy || hair color natural brown-black into dusky rose/ pale pink with little bows || wearing Light pink jacket over pink skirt, white leggings, and brown boots
status One thing at a time. Today, I just need to...be here. _______________//OOC: Let me know if I can edit anywhere!
_______________
  
So much to say, not just today, but always.
We'll have (Feel the) early morning madness
We'll have (Feel the) magic in the making
Yes, everything's as if we never said goodbye
We taught the world new ways to dream.♡♥~As if We Never Said Goodbye" by Andrew Lloyd Webber, sung by Patti Lupone.
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Posted: Sat Jul 16, 2022 2:33 am
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Truth be told, Jack still wasn't totally sure this wasn't a terrible idea. Call him crazy, but he was pretty sure springing surprises on people with PTSD was high up on the "Do Not" list. But, he'd run the idea by Tris to make sure it wasn't going to further traumatize Sparrow for life, and his cousin had more or less given the green light. Well, sort of. They'd more said, "Do you think it's going to further traumatize her for life," to which Jack had said, "Not really I think I'm just being dramatic," and Tris had replied, "What else is new," and rolled their eyes, then said to do what he thought was best. And, well. Sparrow was already pretty bad off, mental health wise, so Jack didn't figure this could make things that much worse. Unless she failed the interview. But Cel hired basically everyone who interviewed... which Jack should definitely not tell her, in case she didn't get hired.
Still, he was going to be an optimist. He was one, usually. He just wasn't accustomed to navigating anyone's trauma that wasn't directly related to him. He also knew that, in the past, there had been instances where he wasn't especially empathetic, mostly because of his own childhood trauma. But he'd worked on that, and thought he'd developed into a properly emotionally intelligent adult. Hence his ability to recognize, despite her insisting that she was fine, that Sparrow was far from fine. Unless they'd finally updated the dictionary to read the definition of fine as "definitely not fine." It'd be a contronym then, which was a fancy word he only knew because of having this very conversation with Tris, and he thought it was about time they did it all things considered.
Hearing the theater doors open, Jack stopped the project he was working on to kill time (helping touch up some set pieces, because Rory threw a fit when people touched them while he was around but the man couldn't do everything his damn self), and jogged towards the spot where she'd taken up residence. Dropping gracefully into the seat next to her, he cradled the back of his head in his hands, leaning back and crossing his ankles over the back of the chair in front of him. Cel'd kill him for it, but he didn't much care. "'ave I mentioned," he began casually, "'a much I 'ate paintin' sets?"
»» ѕlyтнerιn alυмnυѕ »» acтor - тнe нoвgoвlιn тнeaтer »» ѕιngle
»» ooc »» text
♪ we coυld тaĸe a нolιday ♪ ιn тнe мonтн oғ мay
♪ rυn ғree and play ιn ♪ ғιeldѕ oғ ғlowerѕ
♪ paѕѕ тнe нoυrѕ ♪ мaĸιng love ιѕ нow we'll pray
♪ ι'м ғeelιng devιoυѕ ♪ yoυ're looĸιng glaмoroυѕ
♪ leт'ѕ geт мιѕcнιevoυѕ ♪ and polyaмoroυѕ
♪ wιne and woмen and wonderғυl vιceѕ ♪ welcoмe тo тнe cυlт oғ dιonyѕυѕ
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Posted: Wed Jul 27, 2022 5:57 pm
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♥♡ SPARROW KIYA WINCHESTER20 years || Gryffindor alumna || pureblood
_______________
“I think I remember you mentioning it once or twice,” Sparrow replied with a nostalgic glimmer in her voice. Set building was, in general, her least favourite part of the production process, even if she liked the colors."But I do love the smell of paint! It’s some consolation to having to make the set pieces.”
She didn't recognize all the pieces. That...hurt, in a strange way. Sparrow used to be here every break, and at least could guess what pieces belonged to the various shows going on. "But how are you? It's been forever!"
No thanks to me, I'm sure, she added as a self-deprecating afterthought. She started to fight it with forced optimism, then took a moment to let the thought wash over her and fade away. She looked around the theatre. "Are you just touching up? Or repurposing them for another production?”
_______________
setting The Hobgoblin Theater, December 2056 || with Fellow theatre kids, awaiting Jack
appearance 5'7", soft and squishy || hair color natural brown-black into dusky rose/ pale pink with little bows || wearing Light pink jacket over pink skirt, white leggings, and brown boots
status Set building...it's been forever since I've done that. _______________//OOC: Sorry this took me so long an is so short >.<
_______________
So much to say, not just today, but always.
We'll have (Feel the) early morning madness
We'll have (Feel the) magic in the making
Yes, everything's as if we never said goodbye
We taught the world new ways to dream.♡♥~As if We Never Said Goodbye" by Andrew Lloyd Webber, sung by Patti Lupone.
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2022 1:06 am
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Jack didn't know what to make of her tone; usually, he liked to use that to gauge people's general headspace. It helped him figure out how to go forward with conversation, at least when tip-toeing around sensitive subjects. But truthfully, while he heard the wistfulness, he couldn't tell if is was forlorn, resigned, contemplative, or something else. Well, she was feeling well enough at present that she'd actually showed up, and not canceled on him, so that was something, for sure. She was probably... ugh, fine. Or as close to it as she got.
He shrugged. "I daan't even notice the smell of paint," he confessed. "Mum's got the whole of 'er gaff covered in it aw the time. 'ad lead in it, Mal and I never would've lived long enuff ter clock 'ogwarts." As a kid, he'd loved that; he'd loved painting with his mother, mostly because they weren't really painting so much as making a mess. But sometime around when he started taking the actual class at school, he'd grown out of it a bit. He wasn't good at art, really, at least not the visual kind. He had vision, sure, but he could never seem to translate it well onto a page or into a sculpture. He'd passed that class on acknowledgement of his effort alone, and wondered where the hell his Mum's genes had gone.
... Maybe there was something to Rory not wanting his help with the sets.
But he was fine at doing touch ups! As long as the whole of it wasn't his responsibility, he could do decent work. Give him a blueprint and he could follow it just fine, better than most, even. So in fact there was nothing to it and Rory was just extremely nit-picky.
He shrugged again when she asked how he was; honestly, he was same as ever. His entire adult life was basically narrowed down to his activities in Drama Club during school, because of his job. "'m Robin Hood," he replied, because just shrugging was rude and off-putting. "Busy wif werk, mostly. We're still a pretty small team, so ev'ryone 'as ter 'elp a lil' wif everythin' for productions. The twins 're 'opin' we can get enuff new 'ires ter start doin' shows more often, but we'll see. Sum contractors got 'ired ter 'elp wif the set-buildin' for this upcomin' production and I fin' even Nath's abaht ready ter 'ex them for 'a much of a pain in the arse they've been." And if sweet Nathaniel Ellis wanted to hex you, you'd screwed up, make no mistake.
He did catch some small quirk of her expression, but it was gone before he could figure it out. "Touchin' up; Murdoch likes ter act loike 'e's a bloody one-man sha wif the paintin', but it's too much work for jes' 'im. i'm 'alf-surprised nah one's caught 'im sneakin' in 'ere and workin' off the clock ter ensure nah wahn else 'as ter touch it." Of course, that would never actually happen; for all that he wanted full control over the art direction of the set, he also would never work for free. One time when he'd first been hired, he'd refused to come to the bloody wrap party if he wasn't gonna get paid for it.
He waited a long moment, and then asked, "Wot abaht ya?" It was a loaded question, he knew. But if she was absolutely terrible, he wanted to usher her out of here before Cel could ambush her and make matters worse.
»» ѕlyтнerιn alυмnυѕ »» acтor - тнe нoвgoвlιn тнeaтer »» ѕιngle
»» ooc »» catch me going back for edits bc
OH YEAH HE HAS AN ACCENT
At least he doesn't use the rhyming slang as much as his dad
♪ we coυld тaĸe a нolιday ♪ ιn тнe мonтн oғ мay
♪ rυn ғree and play ιn ♪ ғιeldѕ oғ ғlowerѕ
♪ paѕѕ тнe нoυrѕ ♪ мaĸιng love ιѕ нow we'll pray
♪ ι'м ғeelιng devιoυѕ ♪ yoυ're looĸιng glaмoroυѕ
♪ leт'ѕ geт мιѕcнιevoυѕ ♪ and polyaмoroυѕ
♪ wιne and woмen and wonderғυl vιceѕ ♪ welcoмe тo тнe cυlт oғ dιonyѕυѕ
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Posted: Sun Aug 14, 2022 11:40 pm
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♥♡ SPARROW KIYA WINCHESTER20 years || Gryffindor alumna || pureblood
_______________
"I guess we can't pull all nighters painting sets anymore,"Sparrow reminisced with a nostalgic smile. Not that All-Night-Set-Painting had ever been a sanctioned Drama Club activity. More like a "stay until the prefects kick us out under thread of detention or house points". She had once used her prefect privileges to stay in the drama club room painting after curfew. But that was once!
“Would you believe I’ve never actually done Robin Hood? It’s never come up. PLease tell me you’re doing the version where everyone’s a bird,” she chirped. That was a version right? Sparrow could have sworn there was a version where Robin Hood was a robic, Maid Marion was and….owl? Albatross? Was this all just something she misremembered and made up?
“Contractors?” Sparrow listened intently, her expression a cross of intrigue and concern at the mention of incapable contractors. Said expression swung from excitement to worry. She knew the Hobgoblin was a pretty small core team, and was a little relieved and excited that they were still a small core group. She instantly felt bad for that though. Contractors weren’t always easy to work with. Plus she was supposed to be on that pretty small team to help, even if it was just for summer and winter breaks. That they were struggling to the point that hexes were brought up was because she hadn’t done anything all year. Last year.
Sparrow let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. No. It’s not your fault. It’s not like you alone could actually have done anything to affect this…that was conceited. Wait. this isn’t helping either. I….just ignore the past. We’re only in this state because of the past–not helping. Just. How can I help now? What is something I can do, as a friend to Jack?
Which…admittedly was not much. Sparrow had only just finally submitted her application. She wasn’t even sure if Cel and Maura had seen it. Plus she assumed any goodwill she might have gained volunteering would have been wiped away by her silence and inability to follow up when she said she would the last few times. Or maybe they didn’t even remember her.
"Oh! I'm hanging in there!" Sparrow replied, immediately putting forth cheerfully. She laughed self-deprecatingly. There was no need for that, she knew he knew she was struggling. And she was here because they were friends.
"I'm okay," she amended. "To be honest, I don't do much besides go to church and charity events, a few hang-outs with friends, and therapy. I still just...flop once I'm home and sequester myself in my room for hours and hours doing nothing but listening to the same soundtracks. But...I think it's better than a few months ago. I have to remind myself it's a journey, not a quick spell. A whole play, not just a transition. I'm relearning the play line by line, and each line...is a day of its own."
It's a journey--It being recovery? Fighting depression? Overcoming PTSD? Self-improvement? Who even knew? Life. Life sucked. It wasn't at all like the stage. The stage was safe and wonderful. She could memorize--used to be able to memorize--her stage lines in a few hours. It made her sad thinking she couldn't do that anymore. Hadn't really tried to do that. She was too tired for that. Perhaps this was another one of those spiraling circle of evil things her therapist was telling her about. She was unwell because she wasn't in the theatre, and she wasn't in the theatre because she was unwell.
Sparrow brought the topic back around to the sets tentatively. “Do you…Could I help? Even just volunteering like before,” she murmured, staring at the set pieces, wondering what might be something simple anyone could be trusted with. Something even a contractor couldn't mess up. “I can just levitate a piece while you go at it too. Or if you need time to work, I can grab you coffee and snacks?”
_______________
setting The Hobgoblin Theater, December 2056 || with Jack
appearance 5'7", soft and squishy || hair color natural brown-black into dusky rose/ pale pink with little bows || wearing Light pink jacket over pink skirt, white leggings, and brown boots
status One thing at a time, Sparrow. _______________//OOC: ---
_______________
So much to say, not just today, but always.
We'll have (Feel the) early morning madness
We'll have (Feel the) magic in the making
Yes, everything's as if we never said goodbye
We taught the world new ways to dream.♡♥~As if We Never Said Goodbye" by Andrew Lloyd Webber, sung by Patti Lupone.
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Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2022 1:43 am
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Jack blinked a little at Sparrow's misunderstanding of his statement; he hadn't even noticed he'd dipped into rhyming slang, nor that she wouldn't understand it if he did. It took him a second to even catch onto why she'd gone on a tangent about the story Robin Hood because he hadn't realized he'd said it. Just reminded him of why he didn't tend to use it much, and tried to mimic his mother's dialect, if not her accent. "Oh, nah, I didn't mean we're doin' the play. "Robin 'ood" means I'm doin' well. Rhymes wif good, ya clock?" Immediately after finishing the sentence, he rolled his eyes at himself. "I mean, ya understan'? Sorry, I forget not everyone's used ter translatin' when I tal' loike me dad." Of course, he usually only dipped into rhyming slang with his favorite people. But he didn't know if saying as much would make Sparrow feel bad that she hadn't understood it.
His expression grew thoughtful for a moment. "We're workin' on Cap'n Blood wite na, but maybe we do Robin 'ood sometime. i'm surprised they ain't already thought ter do it, 'onestly." Of course, he sometimes thought that the twins had all the plays the theater would put on planned out for years in advance. Curse of having to vote on them in school and having a dozen ideas of their own. But, if they got more crew on, and could do more shows, they'd run through that list faster... assuming they didn't already have full schedules prepared should that event arise. Which for all he knew, they might. They were sort of like that.
He grimaced a little at her questioning tone regarding the contractors, nodding. "It's been a total nigh'mare. They caan't keep on schedule and they daan't folla instructions particularly well. I caan't tell if they're inexperienced and just makin' rookie mistakes, or willfully ignorin' stuff 'cause they're not takin' this job as seriously as, loike, proper construction. Dunna in the buff abaht that side of things ter figure it aaht." Which he occasionally felt bad about, but A, that wasn't his job, and B, he was plenty busy doing other stuff, like helping with costuming and coaching the out-of-company actors. It was pretty cool that Cel and Maura trusted him to help with that, really.
Jack almost called her out on her false cheer, but luckily didn't have to. She backtracked herself and confessed how hard things were, even if she only gave him a very abridged version of things. Which was better than he'd gotten out of her a lot of times in the past when he'd asked, so he'd call it progress. Her theater metaphor made him chuckle a little, if only because it was so on-brand for her. All the world's a stage and whatnot.
It actually made him a little proud? Was that weird? when she offered to help. And, great timing as well, because Cel was poking his head in to see if he could interject. Jack gave a small, kind smile. "Funny ya should ask," he said, waving his boss over. "Got i' on good authority that ya put in an application."
Cel approached the pair, keeping a respectable distance. Jack hadn't briefed him on the entire story, of course, feeling like it was a pretty severe breach of privacy and friendship. But, he had given Cel enough information to know that he ought to tread at least a little lightly. So hopefully things would go well enough.
"Too roight she 'as," he interjected cheerfully. "Ah'm free fahr an interview now, if ye're ahp fer it."
Jack willed her to say yes, hoping that this would work out. He hoped this whole ordeal didn't read like an ambush (even though it sort of was), and was grateful that, at least for now, Cel wasn't outright admitting they'd set her up. He could save that for once she'd gotten a job. Hopefully by then she'd be too happy to be upset about it.
»» ѕlyтнerιn alυмnυѕ »» acтor - тнe нoвgoвlιn тнeaтer »» ѕιngle
»» ooc »» LOOK MORE ACCENTS why did I do this to myself
♪ we coυld тaĸe a нolιday ♪ ιn тнe мonтн oғ мay
♪ rυn ғree and play ιn ♪ ғιeldѕ oғ ғlowerѕ
♪ paѕѕ тнe нoυrѕ ♪ мaĸιng love ιѕ нow we'll pray
♪ ι'м ғeelιng devιoυѕ ♪ yoυ're looĸιng glaмoroυѕ
♪ leт'ѕ geт мιѕcнιevoυѕ ♪ and polyaмoroυѕ
♪ wιne and woмen and wonderғυl vιceѕ ♪ welcoмe тo тнe cυlт oғ dιonyѕυѕ
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Posted: Thu Sep 01, 2022 12:21 am
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♥♡ SPARROW KIYA WINCHESTER20 years || Gryffindor alumna || pureblood
_______________
Sparrow stared at Jack, as though he had suddenly offered her minced meat tea with cream cheese and salt. But he wasn’t the one she was confused by.
Robin Hood….I’m Robin’ Hood. It. She should have known that. Sparrow had memorised each line of Trip a Little Light Fantastic a few years ago and come up with a bunch herself when they were doing improv…a few years back. ”I’m Robin Hood!” had been one of the ones she’d thought of and paraded around using for the few months she was obsessed with and learning cockney rhyming slang. Why…. hadn’t she known that? Why had she…
Sparrow was suddenly very alien to herself. The worst part was, she didn’t quite have the energy to be upset about it right now. Instead, she just felt…empty. So instead of whatever normal reaction she might have had or expected of herself, Sparrow just apologised and moved on. ”Oh. Sorry,”
They moved back to discussing the contractors, and when she asked if she could help, Jack smiled. Was that a mischievous smile? A proud smile? A relieved smile? Sparrow mirrored his smile, confused. ”Oh yes! did finally send my application in.”
Cel appeared to the side, saying he happened to be free right now for an interview. Right now? She glanced over at Jack, surprise unhidden on her face. “Oh! I was just here to…?” she started.
Certainly she wasn’t expecting this! She glanced quickly back and forth between Jack and CelJack, though, didn’t seem too bothered, and it made Sparrow think something about this was a little too perfectly timed. She squinted at her friend, trying to determine if he’d agree to go out for coffee just to lure her in for an interview and make sure she wouldn’t vanish or overthink or… well if he did, she had to thank him for being so considerate. And if he hadn’t, well, at very least…
“Oh, but if it’s not too much trouble? Jack, I’ll owe you a coffee?”
Right. It was now or never. Go with it. Sparrow had thought for years that she’d come to this interview and ace it. She daydreamed interview questions and the philosophical ramblings she’d give in response. She’d have a whole catalogue of songs ready to perform. It would be a laugh and a half, a fun interview because she already knew the team and everything happening at the theatre– but she couldn’t even say she knew what was going on right now in the theatre scene. Never had she thought she’d take a hiatus….or that it would be years. A month off to explore a new hobby and bring that into her acting or singing or dancing? Reasonable and in character. But years had passed. Now that she was here, Sparrow felt like an imposter.
But she knew that interviews were not the time to succumb to Imposter Syndrome. As she followed Cel, Sparrow gave Jack a little wave, then steadied herself with a deep breath. She would be genuine, of course. But part of being a professional actor was being able to act even if you didn’t 1129% that day about that character. Right now, she needed to be confident that the Sparrow she was now–broken pieces still being put back together, withered edges, and worn-out cheer– would be enough.
_______________
setting The Hobgoblin Theater, December 2056 || with Jack
appearance 5'7", soft and squishy || hair color natural brown-black into dusky rose/ pale pink with little bows || wearing Light pink jacket over pink skirt, white leggings, and brown boots
status Ambush Interview? _______________//OOC: ---
_______________
So much to say, not just today, but always.
We'll have (Feel the) early morning madness
We'll have (Feel the) magic in the making
Yes, everything's as if we never said goodbye
We taught the world new ways to dream.♡♥~As if We Never Said Goodbye" by Andrew Lloyd Webber, sung by Patti Lupone.
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Posted: Mon Sep 05, 2022 12:37 am
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Cel could tell she was nervous; he didn't blame her, what with everything she'd gone through. And a surprise job interview on top of it, which was enough to give anyone anxiety. But he did think, as long as Jack was sure, that this was probably the best option. They hadn't discussed Sparrow's state in detail, Jack wanting to respect her privacy and their friendship, but he'd been honest. Vague, but honest. Which was all Cel could expect, and he respected that.
Now Jack was giving her an easy smile and a wink. "Too wite ya will," he said cheerfully, then gave a small salute. "Hammer and Tack ter the set paintin' for me, then." With that, he jumped out of his seat (and don't think he wouldn't be getting a talk over his feet being up over the back of one) and bloody well sashayed back to the stage.
"Murdoch cahms ter me aboyt yer feckin 'is set up an' i'll be sendin' 'imself after yer arse," Cel called, mostly joking. He, rather predictably, received a two-fingered salute in response, which he rolled his eyes at before turning back to Sparrow. "No' an ounce av respect from dat wan, oi swear," he quipped. "C'mon, let's 'ead ter t'e office, aye? "
Once they were sequestered in the privacy of his office, Cel took a seat. Rather than heading to his desk, he'd settled himself in a cushy-looking armchair which sat at a 90-degree angle from a couch, a small coffeetable between. He gestured to the couch. "Make yerself comfortable," he said, then waved his wand a couple times to summon and set to brewing some tea.
While waiting on the water to boil, he glanced over at Sparrow. A seasoned pro, he could sense her nerves. But, he could also see that she was trying to put up a brave face, so to speak. Or, in other words, she was acting. In some jobs that might be a detriment, but here it was sort of the entire point. "So, Jack tells me ya two ohverlapped in t'e 'ogwarts drama club?" he asked, figuring it was best to just get right into it. And then realized that he'd forgotten a crucial step.
"Ah'm Cel, by t'e way," he said, rolling his eyes at himself. "Skipped tha' bi', aye? Ceallachan O'Madaidhin, par'-owner. Me 'alf-sister Maura's auf t'day so ye're in my hands." And would have been anyway, because Maura was a nightmare for interviews. "So. Assumi' ya ge' hired, Ahm yer boss... which brings me back ter t'e queshtin. Drama club?" Shite. That felt like it was putting pressure on her. He was sort of botching this. Then again, this wasn't his normal sort of interview. He hoped that his generally chill vibe would offset any nerves caused by the fact that the unusual circumstances had apparently made him forget how to run a bloody interview, of all things.
»» ѕlyтнerιn alυмnυѕ »» owner oғ тнe нoвgoвlιn тнeaтer »» eтнιcal ѕlυт
»» ooc »» Jack had some sad thoughts about the mix-up w his dialect
but including it felt clunky in the post
So just know he's very very sad over it bc he upset her
♪ мy нearт вeaтѕ a jιg ♪ and мe вlood, ιт ғlowѕ green
♪ ι've вeen a rogυe and a raмвler ♪ ғroм ocean тo ѕea
♪ ι'м no ѕaιnт ι'м no ѕιnner ♪ oғ тнaт тнereѕ no doυвт
♪ ι'll тell yoυ тнe тrυтн ♪ ι aм тнe one тнaт
♪ yoυr grandмoтнer warned yoυ aвoυт ♪ ѕo ĸιѕѕ мe, ι'м ιrιѕн
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