Post by The Lady Raven on May 29, 2006 4:20:31 GMT -5
Beneath the surface of Madrid is the last place one would expect to see a bird- of any sort, especially during the darkest hours of the night. However, their was a bird in the Triangle Tunnel that night, whether or not it could be seen is a different matter, for this bird was a great dark raven, black as midnight. As it flew along the tunnel it appeared to be searching for something, though what it expected to find among the rubble I don't know.
All of a sudden, it turned a corner, down an alley that is hard to find during the day, let alone at night, but the raven found it nonetheless and continued about halfway down until it came to an iron pole that undoubtedly had had a shop sign hanging off of it at one time or another, sticking out of a building that was in remarkably good condition compared to its surroundings.
The raven flew to the ground, and in an instant was gone. In its place was a witch, clad all in black, her cloak no exception. Withdrawing her wand she whispered, "Alohomora," and the door swung open- not without a creek, though.
Many, many years had past since Raven had last shown her face in Western Europe, though surprisingly, her appearance was little changed. Her long jet black hair was the same as it had always been, and her cold grey eyes just as cold and grey as ever.
Not really in the mood to redecorate, Raven carelessly waved her wand about, paying almost no attention to what it was doing. Luckily, her subconscious was more aware than she was, so the remodeling wasn’t too bad.
A small sitting area arranged itself around a fireplace to one side of the little shop, while tables and chairs appeared, filling up most of the rest of the room. However, a counter with barstools managed to find a sport, and racks of spirits and bottles of stronger liquors appeared behind it. Three doors also appeared, one leading to a small storage room, a second to an even smaller bathroom, and the third, middle door that led to Raven’s upstairs apartment.
“That autta do it,” Raven said to herself, yawning.
On her way across the room she waved her wand in the direction of the door, and with a few sleepy words charms were placed around her shop, not great ones, but enough to keep people out of it until she could fix some up properly in the morning.
“Oh yes,” she added, turning around to face the window. By making a flicking movement with her hand, her wand shot out a purple poster, that attached itself to her window so passersby would see it; not like anybody would walk down this way, but it was worth a shot.
The sign read, quite clearly in giant letters:
HELP WANTED
Any witch or wizard who isn’t a total buffoon and can count change is encouraged to request an interview with Ms. Raven about a position here at her coffee shop. Anyone interested can leave an application here by sliding it through the mail slot. Please include at least your name and means of which you can be contacted. ~Raven
“Now for some sleep,” Raven yawned again, and made her way behind the counter and through the middle door, which led to a staircase to her apartment above.
((OOC: If Raven already knows your cherrie, feel free to let them crash here...but if I don’t know you, stay the hell away until she comes back downstairs- thank you.))
All of a sudden, it turned a corner, down an alley that is hard to find during the day, let alone at night, but the raven found it nonetheless and continued about halfway down until it came to an iron pole that undoubtedly had had a shop sign hanging off of it at one time or another, sticking out of a building that was in remarkably good condition compared to its surroundings.
The raven flew to the ground, and in an instant was gone. In its place was a witch, clad all in black, her cloak no exception. Withdrawing her wand she whispered, "Alohomora," and the door swung open- not without a creek, though.
Many, many years had past since Raven had last shown her face in Western Europe, though surprisingly, her appearance was little changed. Her long jet black hair was the same as it had always been, and her cold grey eyes just as cold and grey as ever.
Not really in the mood to redecorate, Raven carelessly waved her wand about, paying almost no attention to what it was doing. Luckily, her subconscious was more aware than she was, so the remodeling wasn’t too bad.
A small sitting area arranged itself around a fireplace to one side of the little shop, while tables and chairs appeared, filling up most of the rest of the room. However, a counter with barstools managed to find a sport, and racks of spirits and bottles of stronger liquors appeared behind it. Three doors also appeared, one leading to a small storage room, a second to an even smaller bathroom, and the third, middle door that led to Raven’s upstairs apartment.
“That autta do it,” Raven said to herself, yawning.
On her way across the room she waved her wand in the direction of the door, and with a few sleepy words charms were placed around her shop, not great ones, but enough to keep people out of it until she could fix some up properly in the morning.
“Oh yes,” she added, turning around to face the window. By making a flicking movement with her hand, her wand shot out a purple poster, that attached itself to her window so passersby would see it; not like anybody would walk down this way, but it was worth a shot.
The sign read, quite clearly in giant letters:
HELP WANTED
Any witch or wizard who isn’t a total buffoon and can count change is encouraged to request an interview with Ms. Raven about a position here at her coffee shop. Anyone interested can leave an application here by sliding it through the mail slot. Please include at least your name and means of which you can be contacted. ~Raven
“Now for some sleep,” Raven yawned again, and made her way behind the counter and through the middle door, which led to a staircase to her apartment above.
((OOC: If Raven already knows your cherrie, feel free to let them crash here...but if I don’t know you, stay the hell away until she comes back downstairs- thank you.))