The Walls Are Always Speaking; Carlisle

[Moira O'Brien]

Moira frowned, turning to scan the area behind her. She was sure she’d come from a different entrance but she could only see the one, so shaking her head dismissively, she took a few more steps forward. The street was a dark one, particularly unfriendly and she noticed again that no one seemed to stop and chat. They were all either alone and walking fast or speaking in hurried whispers to their neighbours.

She felt out of place in the long street, wearing her bright blue dress and heels. Everyone else was wearing hooded cloaks. She felt the urge to laugh, to make some kind of happy sound in the street. To turn around and smile at one of the passing strangers. Moira had a feeling that no one would be able to cheer up this gloomy crowd.

There were similar stalls to the side, like the market place she had only gone to previously. The owners were motionless though, not waving their hands and crying out at the customers in hopeless attempts to earn some money. Moira looked over at one stall, feeling a little sorry that it wasn’t receiving any customers. She shrugged and made her way over there, waving a cheery hand at the owner who stared back at her, no emotion showing on his face.

She knew the look in his eyes well though. I don’t belong here at all and everyone knows it, she thought but she still didn’t leave. She was intrigued and she wanted to know why she’d never heard of this market. It was most certainly dark. She could see that without knowing much about it. Moira was not easily intimidated though, even when the owner threw a filthy look in her direction as she picked up one of the objects.

She stared around, her eyes growing wide when she noticed what this stall was selling. There were human fingernails, several cursed books and what looked to be blood-stained playing cards. She looked up at the owner, not bothering to keep the disgusted look off her face and she shook her head disbelievingly as he smirked at her. Who would buy such things? Sure, she had brought dark potions before. She was an expert when it came to potion making and sometimes she’d had to buy unfortunate ingredients. But these things were unnatural and she couldn’t see anyone buying them for anything but enjoyment. She shuddered at the thought

[carlisle]

"I don't suppose you have a coin to spare?" he voiced out to Moira, making his presence suddenly known as he appeared beside the other, a black cloak and a well placed hood covering his appearance, letting the only thing 'visible' of him being his voice, and the lower half of his face. A sly smile on his face as he let his eyes travel across the table, the items certainly not proper and probably not even legal, to be honest, he wondered why someone like her was here. For even from a mile away, Carlisle figured that she definitely did not belong in this crowd.

Neither did he, but he was here on official business. He had to pick up something for the Ministry, and given that he had free time, he had offered to be the one that picked it up for the Ministry. They were the bosses, and he was the employee. Seeing that he was living off their payroll, might as well make himself useful, instead of bumming around the office. Ever the responsible person, he had finished his work earlier than most, if only because he was organised when it came to his job, and he knew exactly how to tackle it. Five years in the department taught you something about handling the work efficiently, and Carlisle prided himself on his efficiency. For someone who was never a great fan of tardiness, to know that his documents wouldn't be late put him into a good mood.

And the good mood carried on, even as he traversed through Licentous Lane. He hadn't expected to meet Moira here, but now that he had, it was perhaps pure coincidence that she was standing in front of the stall that he had to purchase something from. Giving her a crooked smile, Carlisle beckoned for her to wait for a moment, before stepping to speak with the owner of the stall in hushed tones. Disbelief and skepticism passed the stall owner's face as Carlisle spoke, and he started speaking in fluent French back at Carlisle. On the same pitch, Carlisle set a rebuttal, and after a long while, he was soon holding a badly packaged item, to which he repacked himself with a wave of his own wand over it. When he was certain that all areas of it were covered, he put it into one of the pockets of the cloak, before smiling at Moira.

"Just saying, you look horribly out of place. I wouldn't advise lingering, although if you're looking to purchase something, I'd stay away from the cursed books and vote for the playing cards. Those are the phonies," he murmured, the last part being even softer so that the stall owner couldn't hear what they were saying. "At least, that's what the experts back in the office tell me. I'd trust them, but if you don't, I suggest you buy nothing." His mouth was curved into a smile, eyes still hidden by the hood as he looked at Moira, waiting for a reaction from the brunette to his quick quiet speech.

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[Moira O'Brien]

Moira looked around again, trying her best not to look too suspicious. Somehow narrow eyes didn’t suit this stall so much, and she wondered if there was a chance that just by standing around here, she could get in trouble. She shook her head, deciding to care about that when the time came and instead walked around the stall, her hands brushing against the side of the tables casually. It was a comfort at least that nobody else was near, because she didn’t want to know that people actually came to this stall looking for something. She smiled faintly (as much as she could around the horrible objects) when she spotted a small skull, probably the size of her two fists put together. Moira chuckled and picked it up, throwing it up and catching it a couple of times before a voice behind her made her drop it, grimacing immediately when she heard the clatter.

She turned to see a hooded man (the voice was the obvious giveaway for spotting the gender) standing right beside her. “Of course,” she said, and pulled a couple of galleons from her bag without really thinking. It was when she handed them over that she wondered if she’d made the right decision. He was a stranger and he could easily be up to no good, but perhaps she was basing her opinion on too many muggle movies. The dudes with the hooded faces were always the obvious bad guys.

She was surprised nevertheless when he smiled at her, feeling a tad guilty for judging so quickly. Perhaps he was like her, just happened to get lost in a strange area. She didn’t know, nor did she have time to ask because he was already moving away and had it not been for the quick signal to stay where she was, then she would have interpreted it all as being rude. Shrugging, Moira turned away, picking up the same skull she had been playing with moments ago. It was an obvious fake, even for the magical world and she was curious as to why they didn’t tidy it up a little, or make it into something scary at least.

A muffled conversation made her turn, her dark eyes growing wide as she heard the language. That was not English for sure, but what surprised her the most was the fact that the same man she’d given money to was now conversing with the rude owner....in another language. She raised her eyebrows, quickly turning away when the man came back towards her, a strange package in hand. She didn’t want to look rude but then again, she hadn’t really done anything wrong.

He spoke quickly, but the smile on his half-face at least proved to be a little friendlier. Horribly out of place. She quickly examined herself, agreeing silently but she wasn’t about to say this out loud. She wasn’t going to admit to being lost either. “I wasn’t going to buy anything,” she said reassuringly, although really, she was just comforting herself. Wondering how she was to explain what she was doing, she added, “I was just looking around.” She had to stop herself from asking about the package he’d put away, knowing it was none of her business and she wondered if she’d seemed rude by her lack of conversation. Deciding to speak a little more friendlily, Moira smiled and held out a hand. “I’m Moira,” she said, without adding her last name. He was still a stranger and she’d never liked being called by her last name. It made her feel old.

[carlisle]

With great calmness he studied Moira, and as she dropped galleons into his outstretched hand he gave a small laugh, sliding them into the inner folds of his sleeve where he let them rest for a moment, reminding himself that he would most certainly return them to her later with the cash that he had in his pocket. However, he used her money to complete the purchase that he had received at the request of the Ministry, sliding out the galleons subtly to the stall owner, a pleasant smile on his face in order to mask the true deed that he was taking part in.

He lifted an eyebrow when she said that she had no intent in buying anything, and was quick to respond, "Your actions led me to think otherwise." The very fact that she had graced this Lane with her presence caused him to cast doubt to her words, as he folded his arms, his cloaked creased at points because of that single action. Tilting his head as he nodded awkwardly (for that angle) at her explanation that she was looking around, he murmured dryly, "I can see that." Licking his lips the moment after he said that, Carlisle decided that it was perhaps safer to steer conversation off this path about Licentous Lane, literally.

He offered her a smile when she gave him her name, and put a finger to his lips. "My name after we get out of here. You would know why, but if you need something to call me by, I'm not the least bit opposed to the name Hermes." The name of a Greek God, the messenger of the fellow Olympians, which was oddly suiting for Carlisle. He never did like this place very much, for it was a very shady area and not prone for people to be poking around in. Yet, Carlisle was a frequent visitor here, for there was something absolutely fascinating about the objects they had here, even though he knew better than to mess with it. He worked for the Ministry, but no one around here knew that. Anyone who knew that would immediately disappear at the sight of him, and sometimes he missed having the chance to browse the best goods because of that.

Making a gesture to the path that led out of the area into one of the more busier streets, he gave a gentle nudge to Moira. "Walk with me, perhaps? Unless you're inclined to view a few more items." His tone was questioning, for she had said that she wasn't buyer, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be a browser, like himself. Nodding his head as one of the street peddlers passed by him and addressed him by the name of Hermes, he gave a quick smile, before ducking his head again. Waiting for Moira's response, Carlisle displayed admirable patience as he delayed his journey for her decision.

At the same time, he also grabbed her hand, putting his own above it and letting the coins he had borrowed from her previously slide out and rest in it. "By the way, I was joking about that. I'll keep one of the coins though, just for luck, but the rest you may have back." Winking mischievously as he withdrew his hand shortly after, a flickering glint of gold could be perceived in his grasp as he showed it to Moira fleetingly, before stuffing it into his pocket with the package that he had obtained prior before they had carried out a conversation.

"So, your decision"?

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[Moira O'Brien]

-Sorry I didn't reply yesterday. Busy!

Moira smiled slightly at him. Much as she liked the idea of being a brave heroine, on occasion, she thought, it was all too comforting to be rescued, and she didn’t like her chances of finding her way out of the menacing marketplace on her own. She made a half-aborted gesture to put her hands in her pockets before she remembered her dress –damn, this femininity thing she was trying out - and let her smile broaden, not hiding her friendly nature.

Actions. What actions? She had only been looking around, using her time to explore a place she might never find again. It was all so strange and she hadn’t the slightest idea of how she’d got there in the first place. She was sure the street hadn’t been highlighted on the map she’d purchased. It was his comment that irritated her though, as she never liked people analyzing her too quickly. The mysterious romantic ideal that she wished to be seen as too soon faded under consideration, and Moira had a feeling that she was just as stumbling and awkward as she had been at fourteen, a long-legged colt with too many limbs.

“Hermes, then?” she repeated, Irish brogue lending a lilting tease to her voice. “And is it good luck you’re bringing me or bad? I’m no Calypso, I warn you.” She chuckled quietly and walked after him, still gazing around at the market place with the little amount of suspicion she could manage. “Of course,” she answered cheerfully, not even bothering to question where he was going. “I think I’ve seen enough for today, even when it is the cheeriest of markets.”

When he took her hand, Moira turned to him, flushing slightly. The coins slid into her palm quickly and she frowned at him, the confusion flashing across her face. Hadn’t he needed them at all? She shrugged, and dropped them into the bottom of her bag, adding to the collection of strange items that were already there. She smiled at his comment about the lucky coin, before adding, “I heard that is only a penny. Not a single gold coin. There’s no ring to it otherwise.”

Moira hummed slightly, and then held out her hand with mock imperiousness. “Sure and I’ve told you I’ll come,” she told him, “and be thankful for it, besides.” Winking at him, she slipped her arm through his, linking their elbows, tripping lightly by his side. “So lead the way, kind sir,” she said, letting a little of her laughter colour her tone. It had been a long time since she had properly spoken to anyone besides her Da, and this seemed as good a time for any as conversation. “What brings you to this part of town, then? Asides from rescuing lost girls, of course.”

[carlisle]

slow it down, make it stop
before my heart is going to pop
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

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She seemed to be puzzled by what he said, not that he would blame her for it. After all, he had offered her a statement that seemingly was not backed by anything substantial, and it was partly his fault for her confusion. Immediately heading forth to answering her question, he said simply, "It's in the way you act. Unbelievable, but most people from - ah, around here can tell so immediately. You're a walking target. I don't know whether you know this, but Licentous Lane is simply not the most charming of places." He gestured around him, a knowing look on his toned face as he shrugged. Carlisle seemed like he came to these places all too often, which was entirely true. There was something fascinating about Licentous Lane, and as he had learned earlier on, seemingly dangerous, if you met the wrong crowd. But he was an old hand at this, and certainly knew his way around. People knew him, if only by a different name.

Laughing at her idea of being Calypso, he answered simply, "Ah, but I simply deliver the messages, nothing more. I am the messenger, I do not trick nor lie." Carlisle offered a smile at that point, confident and obviously speaking the truth. He did not trick nor lie, at least when it came to Moira, for she was a new person he had but met today, and he did not know her very well yet. Only until he knew how he would benefit and in what ways he would be able to would he think about trick or lying when it came to her. There had to be some sort of prize, some sort of advantage that he would get before he thought about it. It was always like that, wasn't it? Nodding when she said that she had enough of the area, he smirked at it. "People always say that, but they will never get tired of this place. It's a horrible, cruel fact." Dark magic beckoned in ways that good magic knew not, and it was always able to entrance the ignorant, simply because the potency of the magic was something that most were not familiar and were curious about. Oh, how it snagged it's followers all too easily. He easily led the way out though, taking a turn in one of the alleys that didn't seem to lead anywhere, although Carlisle certainly knew where he was going.

"Luck is only as good as what you make it," he fired back to her idea of it being a penny that brought good luck. "If I choose to believe it as so, it most certainly will bring me the luck that I want." Flipping it into the air as he retrieved it from his pocket, he caught it again, letting it rest in his palm as the gold glinted in the sunlight, whatever limited sunlight that this lane actually had. He shrugged when she asked why he had come here. "I'm running an errand for someone, obviously. They asked me to pick up a package, and I was hard-pressed to say no. Be nice to your friends and all that, as they say, so I was merely heeding such advice." Patting his pocket lightly before placing the gold coin back into his pocket once again, he fired the same question back at her. "And yourself? It's not common for ladies to be wondering around in such areas, is it? After all, it's not the most safest of places," Carlisle asked simply, casting a glance around the area. Shaking his head as he took a step out into the main Magical London, where it certainly was not polluted with such dark artifacts as the place they had been in prior was, it was certainly a huge change from before.

Tag • Moira
Status • Complete
Notes • .......... meh.
Lyrics • The Show by Lenka
Credit • AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !? & riaattack @ Caution

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[Moira O'Brien]

It was beginning to get dark, and Moira watched the shadows grow larger on the walls of the alleys, every bend and flickering shape suddenly more malevolent, and was ridiculously glad that she was on her way out of there. It was all too frightening, all of a sudden, this part of town made more menacing than usual, and Moira was grateful to be away from the eerie market and the unsavoury people who frequented it. She couldn’t help smiling up at her companion.

“Don’t know whether I know this,” she repeated, a little surprised. She wondered if he was being sarcastic, yet there was no sign of it in his tone, so she shrugged and let her eyes widen involuntarily. “It’s not a nice place at all. I wonder why anyone comes here in the first place – including myself.” She felt a little silly being in a place for no purpose, other than her own terrible sense of direction. She’d met – bumped into – many unfriendly people, no more than the strange number at this market place and so she wondered if it were just her imagination that this place seemed so cruel. He had noticed it to though – she would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t – and that reassured her the tiniest bit. She often had a knack for imagining things.

As she followed him, she turned her head quickly, making sure that he was leading her in the right way. She seemed silly enough to get lost in such a place that she didn’t doubt herself getting lost as she tried to leave it. Plus he was still a stranger – she didn’t even know his real name – and he could be luring her into a trap. Maybe this was another time that she was secretly hoping for adventure. She could already imagine several bandits jumping out at the hooded man and herself, but she wouldn’t be scared because soon enough the handsome stranger would enter the scene and she would fall hopelessly in love with him. She shook her head quickly and sighed, looking up at the buildings surrounding them, for any glint of a sword.

When he spoke again about the market place, Moira smiled. There was no way she would be coming back to this place, at least not by herself and she shrugged, not bothering to vocalise this. She chuckled when he spoke about the coin, happily agreeing with what he said. “You’re right, I suppose. I like that way of thinking much better than the penny theory.” She grinned at him again, wondering if once they left the shadowy streets, he might remove his hood, just like he’d promised to give her his name. It was quite strange speaking to a person with half a face but she guessed she was being a little conservative. It was always fun being a little different; Moira wasn’t opposed to it at all, seeing as most of her taste in clothes seemed a little too eccentric for people. Nevertheless she might feel a little more comfortable speaking to someone with a full face.

She was curious about the package still, one that he had supposedly picked up for someone, but she understood he might interpret it as rude if she asked more about it. Moira pushed it to the back of her mind, promising herself that once – if – the man and her became good friends, she would press him for more details. When he asked her for her reason for being out, she grinned, a slight red colouring her cheeks. “I’m new here. Heard it’s perfectly natural to get lost on a first time.” She smiled, hoping he didn’t sense the embarrassment. “They don’t have as many signs here as they do in Ireland.” Such a simple explanation and a lie at that too, but it was light hearted, similar to most of Moira’s conversations. She didn’t add that she thought she could take care of herself just fine. Instead she turned to him, a sweet smile fixed on her face. “Any place we heading in particular, or is that also a mystery?”

[carlisle]

(Before I start, I was wondering whether you'd cared if I replied. Nonetheless I'll be doing so, it's definitely your choice whether you reply back. I'm sorry ♥)

"People come here,"

Carlisle started in a matter of fact tone that would probably surprise her in terms of how clearly and knowledgable he seemed in the matter (scary, really) - "Because they know that here, there's still something in life worth getting excited about. Have you not ever felt that life was dull? When you don't take risks, you don't push yourself. You become boring to an extent where no one wishes to be friends with you. Only when you push yourself do you become something not short of extraordinary, and that's when people will actually give you a second glance."[/color] A smile on his face as his lips curved in a genteel manner upwards, his eyes promised that he knew more than he was letting on. And as such he wouldn't be speaking of the matter anymore. When he was silent, there was always a reason.

He wondered how long it would take for Moira's sense of fear to kick in, if the other woman even had one. After all, there was something oddly dangerous, perhaps, about following a mysterious hooded stranger down the streets of one of London's most dangerous spots, and considering she didn't even know who he was, it was rather scary. Suppressing a feral grin at the thought of it, Carlisle smoothed down the front of his cloak and beckoned for her to hurry a little. He wasn't a bad guy, honest, for if he had been one he certainly wouldn't have been - forgive the pun - walking towards the light. The brighter parts of the street indicating humanity was out there, Carlisle was no doubt leading them down the right path, and definitely not endangering Moira in the least.

"Ireland, you say? Lovely place, it is. I've been there, too. Not as often as I would like, but the brief trip once left enough memories. Looks like they produce fine specimens of people, too,"[/color] Carlisle spoke, complimenting Moira subtly as he took a moment to glance back at her, before turning back to the direction he had taken to. Wouldn't do if he ended up walking into a wall, for a concussion and vulnerability was not what he wanted to land with. Not the safest place to do so, either. Laughing as she wondered where he was bringing her, he answered, "To civilisation. and perhaps a drink, if you're agreeable, Moira."[/COLOR] Her name slid off his tongue easily, as though he had said it all his life.

It took them less than a minute before they finally reached main of Wizarding London, and the obvious sound of chatter indicated that they were definitely within reach of a crowd. A laugh escaping his thin lips as he stepped into the busy street, Carlisle reached to pull the hood off his head, revealing his long face and chiseled chin, a tan to it that spoke that he spent too much time outdoors. "Ah, people. Never thought you'd be so glad to see them, ey?"[/color] Carlisle joked, before waving it off with a dismissing hand gesture. "I forgot to say this before, but welcome to London. We have the busiest crowds and the widest variety of shops. The Irish have nothing on us,"[/color] he teased, referencing back to her earlier introduction that she was new. It would only do for a gent to welcome a lady, would it not?[/blockquote][/font][/size][/color]

[Moira O'Brien]

-Of course, I shall. But thank you anyway. =]

He spoke quite authoritively in answer to her comment, as if he was particularly well-informed about this particular subject, and while Moira certainly understood some of his points, she did not agree on everything. Moira had come to Ireland looking for adventure, looking for something different, some clue as to who she was meant to be and what she was meant to be doing. While she certainly hadn’t found it yet, she knew exactly what he meant when he spoke about ‘life being dull’. Although, Moira also hated to be reminded of things she wasn’t so sure about, things that even she had stopped to think about once or twice, so when he finished speaking and she had stayed quiet for a little while, her answer came somewhat resolutely.

“Risks can be taken without putting yourself in danger,” she said, flatly. Her voice, though quiet, held a lot of determination, and she knew he wasn’t going to change her mind so easily this time. “You don’t need dark magic to make yourself interesting, or even tolerable for that matter. It is the weaker beings who come here, not the ones who push themselves. The ones who have given up are the people you speak of, not the people who keep going and going, even when it seems like nothing will have changed at the end.” While she had started rambling on a little too much, she hoped he could see her own point. Maybe, it wasn’t making sense to him anyway. Maybe, she was just trying to reassure herself, because she hadn’t been here for that reason, had she? Moira shook her head, dismissing her thoughts quickly and glanced back at him, wondering if he had noticed she was taking his opinions a little too seriously. Instead of something like a friendly argument, she couldn’t help but feel it meant more. He was reminding her, and she didn’t like that. So with a shrug, she turned again, and said, “Anyway, we’ll be out soon.” Whether it was to put an end to the discussion or simply to comfort herself, Moira had no idea.

At his mention of Ireland, she beamed instinctively, almost going into one of her long rants about the wonders of her country. Somehow, she doubted the man (no matter how patient) would enjoy that, so she stayed silent, tucking a curl behind her ear cheerfully as he complimented her. Talk of Ireland seemed to have pushed the uneasy thoughts of leaving home away, and she sighed contentedly, grinning as he answered her question about where they were going. “Of course,” she said, smiling, “A drink will do just fine.”

Moira grinned as they reached a busy street, pleased that her escort had indeed leaded her in the right direction. Not that she’d really every doubted it, but it was always good to be cautious. Especially when your company happened to be a hooded stranger. “Well, thank you then,” she said, pausing as she realised that she still didn’t know his name. She turned back to him, noticing immediately the removal of his hood, revealing curly brown hair and equally dark eyes, and Moira quirked her mouth slightly in approval.

Laughing slightly when he spoke, she couldn’t help but nod vigorously in what she hoped looked like agreement. As he welcomed her though, she blushed faintly, realising that this was indeed, the first welcome she had received during her time in London. “Yes, and not to mention the friendliest of crowds,” she said, moving to the side swiftly as a woman barged past her. She was starting to get used to this though, despite how rude it had seemed to her at first. Maybe she’d just never noticed it in Galway.

Spotting a friendly enough pub to the side of a street, she tugged on his arm, nodding over at it eagerly. “Well, you did promise.” She said slyly, “And besides, all that talking’s made me thirsty.” She stopped by the door, folding her arms as she waited for him to join her.

[carlisle]

It startled people how Carlisle could be so obtuse at times, but when Moira retained some sort of belief that his words were wrong, he gave a light laugh at that, not even bothering to muffle his amusement. "My my, Moira. You are certainly skeptical of the curious. You may not admit it, but you'd be more fascinated with things you don't know and have an air of danger around them then things you do know. After all, let's answer this honestly." And before they made it out to the safety of the crowds, Carlisle whipped around, bending closer so that only his eyes could be made out by the little light provided, "Do I not fascinate you, love?" A rougish smile, a charming look in his eye - it seemed that Carlisle was trying to rile her up. Or was he? Only time would tell, for as of now he was unreadable and unreliable. A dark presence? Merely a curious one.

"Toast for the fair maiden," Carlisle murmured to himself as he received her consent to his proposition, mere moments before the two of them tumbled elegantly out into the busy walkways and the many people. He had not told his name, indeed, but it seemed that Hermes wasn't that shoddy of a name to have. Perhaps she would enjoy calling him that. It was certainly better than anything that people could pull out of the name Carlisle. Not that he hated it, but Hermes was so much more intriguing. And had a nicer ring to it. And besides, it was an alter-ego of his, something that he possibly enjoyed playing the role of a little too much, but that was the point.

Ah, so Ireland was where her pride lay, he figured at the smile that greeted her face, blooming like a flower in spring. He was interested to her thoughts, for it was his job to at least know how people of different countries worked. And her thoughtful look made it seem like she was more than ready to share. "Perhaps," he spoke up softly, a gentle look on his face, "You'd be keen to share some of yours thought with me. Over the drink too, perhaps." An invitation, that was set for whether she would like to or would like to not accept it. It was her call, as he had set. Carlisle didn't like to impose that much, but if necessary he didn't see the bad sides of doing such a thing. A determined boy, as Quidditch had brought out in him when he had made captain back in his own school in France. He wasn't stubborn to a fault, but he had a very competitive need to win most of the time.

"We're not that rude, always in a rush though. No such thing as taking your time," Carlisle answered her swiftly when she made the comment upon another woman bumping into her, the movement evident by the shift of bodies and the disapproving noise that escaped the woman who rushed past them. Giving a shrug at the incidence as he watched the retreating figure of said lady, he turned his head back to its original position, expecting that Moira would be there. Instead however, she was at his side, tugging at his arm as she pointed at one of the bars that lined the street, a smile on her face like that of a child. Her words caused him to laugh a little, nodding in agreement. "I did, did I not?" he murmured resignedly as he followed her to the entrance of the bar, pulling the door open for her and inviting her to go in first. Only when she did so did he follow in after, and took a seat at the counter in front of the bartender.

"Gillywater for me. And for the lady...?" Before he completed the order, he turned his head, gaze meeting Moira's as he waited for her to place her own order.

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[Moira O'Brien]

“Well, yes,” Moira said, conceding the obvious – that everything was fascinating, on some level, every manifestation of human behaviour was interesting. “But that’s instinct, love. Giving in to some base level, some ultimate need that lies at the core of you – I’m sure it’s satisfying on some levels, wanting to poke something with the hope that it’ll poke back, but it’s hardly the stuff of which civilisations are made of." She smiled at the man, half-remembering her old dissertations on Nietzsche and the Herd, refuting the base instinct of it.

He surprised her yet again, inviting her to speak of Ireland later, and she smiled gratefully at him. But Moira didn’t want to be the person that spent their whole time speaking about themselves, so she decided a simple nod would suffice for now, and whether he brought it up later… Well that would be up to him.

For a moment the two stayed silent, walking swiftly as they made their way towards the crowd. She could just see them ahead, a bustle of people moving toward different destinations and she smiled faintly, for as much as Moira disliked the busy streets, she also found comfort in them after returning from such a place as the market they’d been in before.

There was something about the idea of a hundred people living a hundred different lives that made Moira feel more secure in her own troubles, her own miseries, and at the same time acutely jealous. It seemed unfair that Moira should have to watch all these people and not be able to know their innermost secrets – Tolstoy might have said that all happy families were the same but Moira felt that as a lie down to the core of her, unable to believe that there could not be some secret truth and knowledge to everybody’s existence that was theirs alone. Moira was a private person. She didn’t wish her own world to be exposed to the world, but she hungered jealously for everyone else’s.

At her comment though, he answered simply, and she chuckled lightly, knowing that this was probably not true but a good answer nevertheless. Not bothering to reply, she turned slightly, spotting a decent looking pub and pulling him in the right direction. He laughed a little, making her smile and followed after, holding the door open as she tripped inside. It was a decent-sized room, and as they walked towards the counter, she took the time to look around, seeing no one familiar (this was hardly a surprise though) but plenty of happy people around – a pleasant surprise after the people she’d been surrounded by lately – all apparently in the mood for a party.

Taking a seat beside him, she added quickly “I’d like a butterbeer please,” and smiled as she watched the bartender move away. While Moira was obviously allowed to drink alcohol, she’d always preferred butterbeer when it came to a drink and was hardly embarrassed upon ordering. “So, where were we?” She asked her companion, recounting back on their conversation silently. Before she could add anything though, the bartender arrived with their drinks, to which she nodded gratefully at, muttering a quiet thank you. She took a small sip and put the glass back down, before turning back slowly.

“Anyway,” she said, raising her voice slightly among the noise of the crowd. “Whereabouts do you work?”