| When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide... |
[September 09, 2009 @ 8:29am] |
[Outside Florean Fortesque's, Anyone]
[Midday]
Donaghan Tremlett was back in London. He'd stayed out of the country ever since Charlie and Evey's elopement though he'd kept up with the news and corresponded regularly with Anya. Now there was business to attend to. First he hired a maid to go into his flat and clean it before he set foot in it again. He intended to spend the day in Diagon and come home to a tidy flat- that always made him feel a little better as long as he didn't have to do the tidying up himself. It was like magic. Well, it was magic since the girl he hired ran her company out of Diagon. Next he made a trip to the owl post office where he sent out a few notes- one to Hannah apologizing for his absence, one to Potter apologizing for his lack of attendance at the party, one to Anya telling her he was back, and one to Charlie and Evey that simply said I'm sorry. He didn't exactly expect an answer to that last, but it was the first step towards the reconciliation that he hoped for. Now he sat in front of Florean Fortesque's with an ice cream cone in hand looking over financial ledgers he'd picked up from his accountant. He needed to start making actual plans, as daunting as it was, for the new place he and Hannah wanted to open. It was nice to be responsible every now and then. Even if it was peculiar for him.
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| I could use somebody, someone like you... |
[August 12, 2009 @ 4:56pm] |
[Owl to Anya, Evening]
[Egypt]
( Owl from Don )
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| Lost and insecure, you found me.... |
[July 21, 2009 @ 1:14pm] |
[Donaghan's, Anyone, Attn: Hannah]
[Afternoon]
Donaghan had become somewhat of a recluse over the past several weeks. He conducted his business and corresponded with friends (like Anya and Hannah and Evey and Charlie, b/c I didn't realize I'd gone so long without posting with him) through owls but otherwise no one had seen him outside of his flat. Most of the time he spent out of his mind on firewhiskey or worse vices, but he could not bring himself to go to anyone for help. It was not until his insurance agent practically begged him to make a final decision about the Endymion that he owled Hannah dragged himself out of his flat to meet her at a restaurant and talk business.
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[June 26, 2009 @ 8:33am] |
[Around Endymion, Anyone]
[Morning]
This was the first time Donaghan had seen the burnt-out shell of his club in daylight, and the sight made him groan. When the building burned it had been the middle of the night and the day before he had waited until after dark to fetch Hannah's things from her flat. He hadn't even given his own place a glance then, more intent on his task for Hannah. Now he stood, arms crossed, Tuck the cat draped over his shoulders. Tuck had taken to perching himself there and he stayed without falling so Don did not particularly mind. There were still aurors crawling around Hannah's place but they were done in his and now he had to start assessing the damage. Curious passerby stopped now and then but Don ignored them, making a mental list of what he needed to get done.
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[June 25, 2009 @ 11:42am] |
[Owl to Angie]
Angel,
Hannah's place was pretty much destroyed and your wedding plans with it. Also, my club burned down. Anyway, she wanted me to tell you she'll take care of everything.
-Tremlett
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| A Thank You... |
[May 27, 2009 @ 5:54pm] |
[Owl to Nica]
[Evening]
*Owl arrives for Nica carrying a "gift basket" full of fine muggle liquor and cigarettes and a note that simply says "Thanks."*
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| There must be some kind of way outta here, said the Joker to the Thief... |
[May 23, 2009 @ 3:45pm] |
[Knockturn Alley then Evelyn & Charlie’s Flat, Attn Nica, Charlie, Evelyn]
[Evening]
“You sure about this, mate?” the man asked from the shadows. He surprised at his own uncertainty, but his customer did not look like he was in the best shape. He didn’t relish the idea of losing his best buyer, or being linked to such a high profile death if the bloke were to croak.
“Yeah, M’sure,” Donaghan replied, slurring his words just a little.
“It’s uh, a lot more than you usually get-”
“Gonna save it,” Don interjected. “Whaddya care? Money is money.”
The man frowned. “You’re a bit trashed.”
“Jussa few pints. Now you wan’ my money or not?”
The man could not object to that. He slipped Donaghan and large leather pouch and in return Donaghan pressed several galleons into his hand. The man disappeared then, slipping off into the shadows.
Donaghan hated this day. Each year it had been tough on him, but this was the first time he’d had to face it alone. Even fighting with her on this day was better than spending it by himself. He had begun drinking the moment he woke up and had only just now stopped in order to make a rather illicit purchase.
As he ducked into an alcove in and slid down to the stone street, the sensible part of his mind screamed at him to stop. And he ignored it. Fifteen minutes later the pouch was empty and Donaghan was not entirely sure of where he was, nor did he exactly care.
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| Opening Night.... |
[April 18, 2009 @ 3:44pm] |
[Don's Club, EVERYONE]
[Evening]
It seemed like ages since he'd first conceived the idea and, now that it had finally come to fruition, Donaghan felt both relieved and nervous. The Endymion was opening. He'd been through so many plans, so many contractors, everyone always coming and going. Eventually he'd settled on having five smaller clubs within the three story building. The best designers he could find had done the rooms and the same witch who had made the Ministry windows show scenes had created illusions for the windows. He walked from room to room for a last look over before the doors opened. First there was the dramatic entry room with it's own small bar. There was the Blue Room- the trendier dance club to appeal to a younger crowd. Next he entered what he called the Posh Room for the appetites of a more refined clientele. On the topmost floor was a good old fashioned pub and in the basement was Donaghan's favorite room- the rather simple stage room. Satisfied with his walk through he returned to the entry room to greet the night's customers.
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| "Well, I know what I've been told, you've got to work to feed the soul" |
[March 31, 2009 @ 1:23pm] |
[Diagon Alley, Evening]
[Anyone]
Donaghan leaned against the doorframe of his club as yet another group of girls passed by giggling. He grinned cheekily after them. Thanks to the Prophet he was more popular than usual. He'd been highly amused at the mysterious messages about him and rather curious as to who created them. Evey's had been obvious to him. Her answer and her willingness to part with that particular photo pained him slightly, but he was happy for her. If it hadn't been for her, Donaghan could conceivably have seen himself with Evey. His grin faltered at the thought of her. He'd parted with a photo of his own to the Prophet and he hoped she'd see it. Wistfully he lit another cigarette and wondered if he ought to visit a "friend" at the Leaky Cauldron soon.
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[March 08, 2009 @ 7:28pm] |
[Backdated to Saturday Night; Leaky Cauldron; Harry, Charlie, George, Oliver]
[Nine]
Donaghan sat at the bar chatting to Tom and working on his third pint of the evening. He'd been there a few hours already with nothing to do until the time he was supposed to meet with Potter. He'd owled Charlie but figured he'd still been at work at that time. It was a bit lonely these days without a steady job, or at least music, to keep him busy. The club was annoying him so he'd taken to only spending a few hours there each day and so the rest of his time was spent in idleness.
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| I don't care, I don't care, just go and leave |
[March 05, 2009 @ 10:53am] |
[Sidewalk in front of unfinished Club in Diagon next to Hannah's shop]
[Anyone]
[Midday]
Donaghan crossed his arms and stared unhappily at the contractor before him. He was doing his best to keep his temper but at the moment he either wanted to blow up or have a pint. They had been telling him things for hours that he didn't care about and no one seemed to be able to make even the tiniest decision without consulting him.
"Look, I don't care," he repeated for what seemed the thousandth time that day, "As long as the acoustics are fine you can make the stage any bloody shape you want. For all I care you could shape it into a bloody swan!"
The man stared at him quizzically, "That'll take a few extra days, if yeh wan'ed ta get the neck right. Swans 'ave elegan' necks, yeh know."
Donaghan stared at him incredulously before abruptly walking away, headed outside for a smoke.
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[January 14, 2009 @ 1:33am] |
[Diagon Alley, anyone]
[Mid Afternoon]
"It's a good day," Donaghan murmured to himself and grinned as he strolled the crowded street. Now and then heads turned to glance at him, but for the most part he remained unnoticed. Having been in a band with eight members made him only known by sight to the most devoted of fans. He'd always tried to stay in the periphery- it was about music, not the spotlight. Donaghan left the fame to the front man Myron and the pretty boy Merton. He grimaced a little as he thought of the cellist and moved his thoughts to other things. Like the brunette outside of the ice cream parlor who was smiling at him. He gave her a wink and considered stopping until some burly bloke sat down next to her. He turned his attention then to the rather jovial crowd around him. Everyone was very pleased today on account of the return of the two kidnapped girls. Donaghan was rather pleased himself- it meant things might get back to normal. He had been looking for real estate in Diagon on the day they'd been kidnapped and he'd had to spend the day trapped in the bar, drinking pints and listening to the wireless for news. Since then, he'd barely been able to get any work started on his club. Today he'd met with the real estate agent, bought a building, and was meeting later with a designer to make plans. He felt accomplished and rather content at the moment and his mood almost made up for the fact that he'd be going home tonight to a lonely empty box-filled flat. Almost.
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