unforgettable

gideon prewett | 30 | lionhearted ministry of magic, obliviator.

[warriorxprewett-blog]

a cure for restlessness | open starter

[warriorxprewett-blog]

@rougishscarlett

“What the hell, Prewett!” called Edgar from the other end of the bar, arms raised in indignation. His head shook, a rag coming off the side of the bar and slapped over his shoulder before he strode their way to snatch the spilled glass from Gideon’s hand then wipe down the pool of drink before it started dripping off of the edge of the bar top. Glaring comically past his brow at the redhead across from him, Edgar groused, “You’re a pain in my fuckin’ arse.”

The glint in his eye made it seem like he was probably joking, but Scarlett couldn’t really tell. She didn’t know him well enough to read him all that well. So she winced spiritedly at the barman and chuckled an apology. “Right. That may have been slightly my fault.” Fingers lifted, thumb and pointer a mere hairsbreadth apart.

He didn’t look surprised to hear it. She could’ve sworn there was an amused glint in his eyes but the humorless expression he had aimed at her made it difficult to tell if he was really upset or not. Rag in hand, Edgar pointed a finger at her in warning. “Got my eye on you, Fletcher.” Her hands raised defensively and his eyes narrowed before he turned away to prepare them fresh drinks.

Staring at Edgar’s back, an amused breath breezed through her nostrils before she shook her head and refocused on the victim of her sideswipe collision. Eyebrows raised at his revision of how many drinks she supposedly “owed” him. She made a show of eyeing him from head to toe, then met his gaze again.

Brows furrowed in glaring disinterest, she leaned her weight back onto a hip and folded her arms in front of her chest. “Come again?” she replied, hoping that she’d misheard him, giving him the chance to rethink his statement. “After everything?” Scarlett looked him up and down again, less impressed than the first time she took his measure. “You’re lucky you’re getting a drink out of me at all, mate. If you weren’t such a soft landing I wouldn’t’ve bothered.”

She licked her lips to keep from smirking. Gideon hadn’t been ‘soft’ in any regard, but allowing him to think that she thought he was pudgy was good, classic fun. Especially since he’d started it.

“Besides,” she said casually, taking a seat at the bar and slouching comfortably on the worn stool. Edgar set down a rum on ice for her and she nodded in thanks as he moved on to place Gideon’s drink before him, too. Casting a sideways glance at the wizard to her side, she provided, “If I wanted to bribe you it wouldn’t be with hooch, would it? I’m much more creative than that.”

Delight sparkled like champagne in her blood and Scarlett threw her head back as she outright cackled in learning that Gideon’s sister had torn into him for her last gift. Him getting in trouble for something she did amused her to no end, and she took a long swig of her drink to help come down from the laughing fit he’d sent her on.

Bursts of chuckles left her in short coughs. “I’ll have you know,” said Scarlett, setting her drink back down. “That that was a Minotaur head, and the fact that you don’t know the difference tells a lot about you.” Smile gone, save for the light in her eyes, she stared at the wizard while shaking her head in mock disappointment. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Firstly, because Minotaur’s are proud, graceful creatures and should not be confused with bulls. That’s racist. Secondly, you almost sound unappreciative of the gift I gave you when I went to great lengths to steal that head from a collector specifically for you.”

Looking straight into Gideon’s eyes, Scarlett said flatly, “I’m hurt. Honestly. You’ve been careless with my feelings and I’m not sure that I can even look at you right now.” She turned fully in her seat, facing the bar’s backsplash with a theatrical huff

His question about whether she new how to clean blood out of mahogany only earned an eyebrow raise from her. Her chiding glare was biting, even if she didn’t bother to say it out loud. But her ‘do I bloody look like the type of girl who knows how to clean anything to you’ was clear as day in the razor sharp edge of her glower.

“The ‘other one’ is working, I think. She’s been slipping off on her own lately and I don’t like it one bit. Not that it’s any of your business, so mind yourself, Prewett.” Her eyes sharpened on him some more, disapproval in the tight squint of her eyelids.

The redhead motioned to himself after observing her flying solo tonight, like he was willing to step in as her wingman while Marls was busy neglecting their friendship. “There’s no ‘probably’ about it, Gid. You’re not as hot. But I suppose you’ll do in a pinch. If you’ve nothing better to do, then yeah. Let’s do it.” Scarlett grinned widely, excitement a small ember hoping for a breeze in her belly. “Lets have ourselves a spot of fun.”

She knocked back what was left of her rum then motioned Edgar for a refill for the both of them. “Hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, mate.”

The combination of the two would’ve been toxic for Bones. Not as bad, of course, as the usual people that she’d usually be seen meandering about with, but still with a strong pinch of regret that he’d understand later on. A look of innocence was easily etched onto his features, his body language proving that ignorance was bliss as he’d turned his body away from potential receiving more threats and instead physical turned towards the human who had taken on the physical form of mischief. If he’d believed in the shite that was auras he was sure hers would be glowing, a far-off, distant, signal that would serve as a warning for anybody that was willing to listen. Or, to people like him, those who needed some guaranteed mischief back into their lives. His eyes lifted in fake offense, his self-pride taking a bruising towards her nonchalance at all of the help and assistance he’d previously offered.

   “Bullshite.” He’d started, eyes widening as he’d jostled her side. Soft landing her arse- he tried not to let it bruise his ego too much. A new body next to him in bed tomorrow morning would heal that wound right up, no issue. “You’re just being ungrateful. Not sure how far you’d go without me, Miss Scarlett. You or your friend.”

The well-rounded smirk was back at it again, although it faltered at her laugh- she’d seemed to find the story with Molly funny, which meant only one thing; she’d never been at the receiving end of Molly Prewett. He wouldn’t say much on it now; any indication would be like a spark to her fire- he was sure if he didn’t know when to stop that he’d be on the receiving end of a roasting that would be all-too-difficult to recover from.

   “Oh, very funny.”

Taking another swig of the liquid had called for a soft roll of his eyes, face looking concentrated at her attempted justification of her gift. Perhaps, to some, they’d see the beauty in it- maybe it was just the presentation, but nobody in their right mind would surely enjoy turning on their lights and spotting an unmoving Minotaur’s head on their bed.

   “Didn’t say that, Fletcher- I know what a bull looks like- also know now what a dead thing smells like- did ya know that shite lingers in your pillows? In your sheets? Best leave you such a beautiful present next time, then.” He’d mused softly, a look of faux concern gracing his features as he continued on, hand moving to stroke his chin thoughtfully. “The same collector who I had to deal with after the predicament? I’m sure he has no recollection of you now.” His tone was low enough for the both of them- the last thing he would want was anybody else in the bar intruding into their conversation. “Unless you’ve decided that another visit was a good idea- which I can assure you is not. Another visit from me and he’ll start forgetting to put milk in his cereal.”

There was, as always, an essence of truth in his words. His line of work was serious- that was why one had to be brilliant to even be admitted into the field of work. One wrong move- one too overdone spell and a person wouldn’t ever be the same again. The challenge, although he liked to keep this deep down inside, was exhilarating, an excitement that fuelled him to become the very best. He’d snapped himself out of his internal monologue at this point, finishing off the rest of his drink as he awaited a reply from the lass in front of him.

    “Was just tryna make conversation-“ He’d started, an innocent shrug lifting his muscular shoulders up as he’d leant back against the counter once more. “I don’t know what you’re gonna do if she ever- Merlin forbid- finds a boyfriend. ‘he not gonna be able to mention him too? Or is that position just reserved for kind people trying to make conversation?” He’d smirked, the look in his eyes a peek into the lack of seriousness of the young man. He’d shaken his head though, understanding when to leave good enough alone. “But, as I’m a gentleman, I’ll do as you wish.”

  “I dunno, Scar. I think I have some redeeming qualities. Check out the chiselled jaw- oh, and the totally muscular frame. Not something to rely on for a soft landin’ at all.” His eyes glistened in mischief, the words a slight jab at her previous comments. It didn’t mean that the words had much effect on him- he enjoyed having this sort of banter. “I a hundred percent, know what I’m getting into- which is specifically why I’ve chosen you- despite your oh-so harsh words- to be my partner in crime.”

[aberforthright-blog]

recklessness reflected || a&g

[warriorxprewett-blog]

@aberforthright

It was a slow day. Not that the Hog’s Head really had any particularly bustling ones, a busy day generally entailed a handful of adventurous and loud children down from the castle pretending to be older than they were much to the annoyance and vague distain of the rest of the occupants of the pub. An average day at the pub was a quiet one, and so when the Hog’s Head was slow, it was slow. Aberforth had ducked into the back room half an hour ago, and promptly found himself sitting on a rickety and lopsided chair that had found it’s way in among the boxes full of alcohol and other, less important, supplies. At which point, the only reasonable thing to do had been to take a nap.

It was, legs propped up, crossed, on a box before him, with one arm across his torso and the other dangling, that Aberforth slipped back into wakefulness once again. It wasn’t noise from the main part of the pub that had woken him- it was quiet, still. It wasn’t any sort of explosion, or someone hammering down his door. Aberforth blinked awake, and peered down his nose at the goat pressing her nose forcefully into his palm so as to nibble carefully on the end of his sleeve.

“Callie.” His voice was gruff, as it almost exclusively was, but when speaking to his goats with no one else around to hear, there was a tenderness to Aberforth that the outside world hadn’t been allowed a glimpse of in decades. He extracted his sleeve from her grip gently, and moved to stand, fingers brushing thoughtlessly, fondly, over the top of the goat’s head. “Should we go check in on the bastards in the front, then?” The question was quiet, half to himself, but Aberforth paused as if to allow for an answer from the goat, glancing down at her, before moving towards the door.

Plucking a couple of bottles of fire whiskey out of a box so as to look like he had actually been doing something in his absence, Aberforth pushed open the door back to the space behind the bar of the Hog’s Head with his foot. He stopped, framed by the door, both to cast a glance over the interior to ensure nothing had exploded whilst he napped and also to let Callie trot through the door after him and wander down the back of the bar, snuffling the ground thoughtfully. He let the door swing shut and walked in the same direction Callie had, sliding the bottles of fire whiskey into place on a row of shelves and looking speculatively over at one occupant of his bar who had decidedly not been there before he had ducked into the backroom for a fairly extended time and a very brief nap.

“Prewett. You going to order a drink or just sit around taking up room?”

It was never really much of surprise that the Hog’s Head was quiet during this time of day. More often than not, Aberforth seemed to busy himself with other things, became more selective with his customers. Gideon seemed to have quite a bit of time on his hands- he never seemed to visit the establishment in a hurry; it was often something that was more gradual, took more time than any other task in his life. He was surprisingly delighted as he’d heard the scuffling of Callie and seen the figure that arrived at the door. A small smirk met the man, eyes grazing over the bar as he’d let a shrug leave his shoulders.

    “I was thinkin’ I’d help myself… or something along those lines.” The words were all in jest, of course. Gideon couldn’t seem to fully understand just how his words could’ve been taken seriously, let alone the lack of humour that they seemed to have. Regardless, he’d braced himself for Aberforth’s reaction, an easy smile settling on his lips.

Work had become busier than ever, something which had the man wading up to his knees in paperwork and, in a more interesting turn of events, missions which seemed to call for progress, for an excitement that blasted him out of the mundane qualities of his usual life. It was strange, the company that he seemed to enjoy when he was in the presence of Aberforth. He did seem to exude a quality that Gideon wanted for himself, a more controlled sense of recklessness that others wouldn’t even darelaugh at or question. Perhaps his style was more calculated, regardless of that it still made Gideon’s awe of the man grow.

   “Wouldn’t want a lifetime ban.” His eyebrows raised in a joking manner, body leaning back against the bar as he glanced around the pub, a smile raising to his lips. “I was havin’ a look around for you, keeping watch. Everything seems fine, I know Callie’s usually your right-hand man, but I’m just as trustworthy.” A smirk highlighted the playful glint in his eyes. He was aware that he usually spoke too much, something which Fabian was usually the first to tell him. He’d built a shell around the fact, and if he was being honest he’d done so well at ignoring it that he’d become almost indestructible… much to the annoyance of those who he was around.

He’d waited for his drink, quietly awaiting a response from the man.

[warriorxprewett-blog]

@bewarethesirenscall

The Three Broomsticks wasn’t exactly the kind of place Arielle was used too. Prior to her moving to London, she’d lived the extravagant life. It was one she’d enjoyed immensely, the cocktail parties and yule balls, the dignified elites who had attended in their extravagant, designer eveningwear.

Yes, that was her kind of crowd.

As she glanced around the room, smoothing the skirt of her dress down for what felt like the millionth time, she felt antsy. It had been a mistake coming here, that much was certainly obvious now… a quick glance at her watch had her wondering when it would be appropriate to bail, as the locals say.

The dress was Dior, a skin-tight navy number with a deep V-Neck and long sleeves. The shoes were Manolo Blahnik, navy silk. She was far too overdressed for this crowd but Arielle had never heard of The Three Broomsticks before today.

The man from the coffee shop who’d been all smiles and flirtatious comments in the few months since she’d moved to London had finally asked her out for drinks, here, in this very place, just that morning. Only, an hour past their selected meeting date, he was nowhere to be found and she was alone at a bar that didn’t look like it’d been cleaned in this century.

She was about to throw in the towel and head home when a man appeared in the empty space beside her. He’d blocked her exit and with the words that’d followed, she truly wished she were invisible…

“Really?”

Her French accent thick in her words as her brows furrowed in confusion. “Do lines like that really work for you? Ever?”

Gosh, it was like hitting a brick wall.

Except brick walls didn’t make his heart beat fast and his words come out with no sense or concept.

Maybe she was a brick wall. Surrounded by flowers. And butterflies.

He’d blinked away the thoughts, embarrassing as they were. Eyes looking her up and down in admiration- some people tended to take him the wrong way- Gideon Prewett liked to think he was easy to love, although situations like these made him think otherwise. It really depended on the situation at hand, and this one? To say it was a monumental fuck-up wouldn’t have been a lie.

    “I don’t usually use it-“ He’d began, eyebrows raising in surprise at her accent. He’d taken a step back, almost in defence as he’d raised his arms up. A smile replaced the look, quick as a beat, as he’d glanced towards her. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

The words were genuine, his eyes glinting in interest, different to any look he’d had before. He was sorta glad that Fabian wasn’t there, let alone Molly. Any spectators would make sure he’d never forget it, not that he wanted to.

    “I was just taken aback. If I knew you’d be here I would’ve dressed up more.” He’d glanced around for someone equally as dressed up, probably willing to sock him in the face for even talking to her. “The fact that no one here seems dressed up enough to meet you disturbs me- if you’ve been ditched then the man’s a bastard.”

[warriorxprewett-blog]

a cure for restlessness | open starter

[warriorxprewett-blog]

@darkxwithin

Rosemary wasn’t opposed to having a little fun at all if the right person came along and by that, it meant someone who could hold her attention. She had to admit, so far Gideon was doing a pretty good job. Little did he realise, but he was also helping to ease the oncoming frustration at another letdown by the same waste of space informant.

“Yes…I have seen myself…many a time….but right now, it’s you I have my eyes on.”

The raven-haired witch was deliberately to the point and wondered if he was easily made uncomfortable at all if she chose the conversation to become a little more enticing. Though if she was to hazard a guess, he really didn’t look like the type to go all bashful and shy on her–which was a good thing.

“Oh but thinking of the ways you will search for my name…that has me intrigued….almost excited even….”

Her line of vision is fixed on him and a mischievous playfulness danced in her dark hues. Then she leant toward him and deliberately brought her lips just an inch or so from his ear so that he would feel her warm breath against the shell of it.

“Rosemary…that’s my name…or if you would prefer…Rose too…”

Her head moved slowly as she spoke until she had resumed her previous position once more. She did let her visual slip away from him as he ordered more drinks and a grin emerged on her face.

“Well..it wasn’t meant to trouble you as such…”

One elbow is placed on the table and she rested her chin on her hand as fingers curled up into the palm.

“But maybe it was to give you one last warning…you know…like get your arse outta here while you can or lets get to know one another more–which could be double trouble….but bloody good fun.”

  “You should know something about me.” He’d said, voice gruff with a sense of seriousness that seemed unreal when partnered with who he was. Leaning back against the bar, his eyes scanned her dark ones, a grin slowly surfacing onto his lips as he’d continued on. “I’m not one to listen to warnings. They’re like the fun sponges of the world- wouldn’t ya want to be the bastard who tried instead of the one who ran away? Who’d be the bigger bore in that case.”

He’d tried not to let the conversation leak into one of such seriousness and intent- something which he saved for more serious matters at work, although his commitment to being troublesome and getting himself in trouble spoke volumes for the type of person he was. Having such a beautiful figure be troublesome with him, therefore, didn’t seem as if it was too much of a sacrifice.

Rose.

Innocent names were warnings, nobody with a name like hers would be purely innocent. Roses had thorns, he was fairly aware that she’d be the type that would have many hidden somewhere. The thought excited him, pulled him out of the painfully drab existence that he seemed to exist in.

Thank Merlin for that.

Her proposition, although one laced with integrity, did nothing more than spark the curiosity of the man. It was like dangling a carrot in front of a horse, except that the carrot was the most interesting thing the horse had ever seen. She seemed like the type to pull him out of his misery, put some sort of colour back into his life- one which seemed laced with nothing but paperwork and business meetings. The thought of it almost caused him to yawn, but the conversation pulled him back.

   “I’d be an absolute idiot to say no to that offer.”

[warriorxprewett-blog]

a cure for restlessness | open starter

[warriorxprewett-blog]

@rougishscarlett

“Where’s your other half?” asked Edgar on the other side of the bar, rag in hand as he wiped down the counter, eyebrows pinched while he observed her warily.

Scarlett looked around the pub and sighed, shoulders sagging when she came away without having spotted the brunette to her blonde, the kindling to her fire, the peanut butter to her jelly. Pouting despondently, she lifted an elbow onto the bar and rested her cheek in her hand as the other twirled her cup round and round on the counter top. “I don’t think she’s coming out tonight.”

She glanced up at Edgar and, if she didn’t know any better, she’d have called that relief in his eyes. Behind all that amusement. The bastard. “The pub’ll stay standing another night then. That’s good.”

Glaring, she stuck her tongue out at him before lifting her cup to her mouth for a deep gulp of the rum inside. Her scowl was toothless and all it did was make him chuckle and shake his head. The barman walked away to tend to his other patrons and Scarlett looked around the pub again in search of her favourite witch in the whole wide world.

It’d been a long day for her, busy. And not in the fun way. In the ‘I could be harassing snobby aristocracy at Twilfitt and Tatting’s with my best mate but I’m heckling muggles instead’ way. She was in a bit of a dry spell on jobs lately, and had succumbed to pick pocketing and petty crime in order to make ends meet. Mostly con jobs, just until someone needed something desperately enough for her services.

Her day had been full of parlour tricks and muggle ‘magic.’ Sleight of hand shite that had her pockets heavy with watches, wallets, and expensive jewelry. She had to be careful not to use any real magic on the wankers, else the Ministry decide to pop her a visit. But, as long as she kept her criminal activity non magical and on the muggle community, the Ministry couldn’t care less about her or what she did.

Scarlett knew that much all too well.

After fencing her goods then exchanging bills for coin, Scarlett decided to wrap her day up with a drink at the Broomsticks. She’d been hoping for Marlene’s company too, but the woman either had work or was busy with whatever it was she got into these days. Even if her heart and mind disagreed completely, the world did not revolve around Marlene McKinnon. She’d have to make due without her best friend for one night.

Boo. Hiss.

Darts. She decided on darts. Crossing the pub for the dartboard, she plucked the darts out of their rack and walked toward the marked line. The darts were tossed with ease, needle like tips burying into the bulls-eye without fail. Damn, it was not easy being amazing at everything. Scarlett sighed. When, after a few more rounds, a small party asked for the board she acquiesced without a fuss and handed the darts over to their leader.

Weaving through bodies, she made her way back to the bar. Just as she neared the end of the rowdy mob, someone’s elbow knocked into her back and she tripped over a boot, stumbling forward. Scarlett landed on a hard body, knocking hard into them as she caught herself on their shoulders to keep from falling.

“Sonuva… sorry, mate,” muttered Scarlett as she righted herself, peering over the man’s shoulder to see that she’d knocked his drink clean out of his hand and every drop was on the bar top. “I’ll buy you another.”

Waving for Edgar’s attention, she threw two fingers up to signal for another round. To the man beside her, Scarlett smirked an apology. “I’m usually lighter on my feet. Must be one of those days, yeah?”

Gideon had stabled himself enough for the moment; the only victim to the collision was the firewhiskey which was pooling around the counter of the bar. His eyebrows raised in innocence, eyes moving to meet Edgar’s in such an apologetic way that it almost seemed strange for him. It was probably because most occurences which held a likeness to this one was usually his fault, although tonight proved an exception.

   “Sorry ‘bout that, mate.”

He’d stabled himself on the blonde in front of him, careful not to knock her over in process. The familiarity of the girl was quick to come to him, although the lack in presence of her perceived partner-in-crime was strange. He didn’t know her much, far from watching her shenanigans with her friend whenever he was at the same bar, an entertaining thing to lay one’s eyes on if he was to be asked. Scarlett did enjoy being secretive in all the means of her life, except for the times he’d find her needing assistance and trading some sort of peculiar gift for his services. He was thankful, in essence, that those situations weren’t becoming more common, and was therefore pleased that she’d been the one to knock into him.

   “After everything, I think you owe me more than one drink.” The joking was prevalent in his tone, hands settling by his sides as he’d scooted away from the bar for a moment, giving enough space for Edgar to do his job. “I hope that wasn’t a ploy, by the way.”

He’d peered up at the girl through furrowed brows, taking a deep breath as a grin had moved to grace his features. Perhaps Merlin had planned tonight to be the night that Scarlett was without a partner-in-crime, it certainly seemed to coincide with his predicament, and the boredom that came with a busy bar and a busy friend. If he’d only gotten hold of Caradoc… the idea of it seemed to be enough to introduce a smile onto the red-head’s lips, although he knew no action would come from the scheming in his head. He wasn’t one to tamper with such matters, only to simply to be a surveyor in the scheme of things.

  “One of those days, Scar? Am I to expect a bull’s head on my kitchen counter? My sister right about killed me for that last time-“ A smirk had tugged at his lips at the memory, although the soft wince in his eyes laid more evidence to the reaction that his sister had had to the situation. “Apparently that shite’s hard to clean from mahogany- you wouldn’t happen to know a spell, would ya?”

Gideon had a feeling that if anybody knew such things it’d be the blonde which stood in front of him, though saying that out loud to her seemed like a death curse within itself. Standing up straight, Gideon found himself stretching, the soft cracking of his back sending calming shivers down his spine. Glancing over towards the girl she noted the lack of the brunette shadow which seemed to stick by her side, and instantly thought that it’d be a good place to start.

Gideon Prewett was onlysmart in some things.

    “Where’s the other one?” Of course he’d known her name, but it seemed all the more comical to repay Scarlett for all of the grievances and howlers that Molly had sent his way after receiving her presents. “Having a lover’s quarrel?”

It seemed impossible, something out of a fairytale for the two to have any sort of disagreement- that was what made this moment so entertaining. As Edgar slid over the drinks he’d passed one over to the girl, swiftly taking a sip of his and coming to terms with his day slowly becoming better. Mischief, perhaps, would be in the cards for tonight- that sheer fact alone was exciting for the boy, and it was shown in his eyes.

   “You seem in need for a partner in crime.” He’d shrugged and gestured to himself. “I’m probably not as hot, and my hair ain’t that long- but I’d gamble to say I’m your man. Bored enough to try anything, anyway.”

[warriorxprewett-blog]

old fashioned | drabble.

Gideon Prewett liked to think that he was the future. What else could he have been? He’d excelled at most things in his life, pushed past other people (old and new) and had gotten himself into a pretty prominent position in his field of work. That classified as being the future if there was anything to go by, at least in his own, very humble, opinion. He knew that some people would think otherwise, that Fabian would’ve huffed and scoffed (albeit lovingly) in his face at the very words, but it didn’t bother the man- he knew where he stood and he knew how important his role was in this very world.

There was, of course, some dichotomy between being the future and some of the waysthat he’d often found himself doing his job. This classification also applied in other aspects of life; case in point, Gideon wasn’t one to be overjoyed at new flavours and mixes of firewhiskey, in his eyes things that were so good and did their job didn’t need to be replaced and remixed; keeping them at bay and in their rightful glory was to give them the proper respect that they needed. Voicing those opinions in a bustling bar, of course, was never the answer. Gideon Prewett was smart enough to know that much, but also stupid enough to completely ignore that idea all at the same time.

He'd found himself reclining against the mahogany of the bar, eyes busily scanning the people whose celebrations of the latest Harpies victory had begun to spill its way in. In an instant he knew that it’d make busy work of Edgar and although he took a solemn minute to mourn the poor basterd, he did find some entertainment in seeing the business fly him off the seat of his pants. The one thing that he was thankful for was the lack in presence of Madame Rosmerta, especially when tensions were heightened. Gideon always thought that her fiery misdemeanour was only further aided by the red hair which she had- Molly had the same as well, and he figured it stemmed from deep within. A fiery heart meant red hair, a warning to those who dared come close. It was probably Merlin’s funny way of letting everyone know, to warn them that to love someone with such a complexion was asking for the heat of fire- maybe redheads represented a dragon core in a world which seemed full of ice.

That was probably why the heavy hand on his shoulder had caused the guy to look up, a burly man standing over him that probably had too much to drink. He had previously been laughing at the situation before him, unbeknownst to the observation that he had become a part of. As he’d slowly stood, his eyes scanned the man.

    “Yer supportin’ the Irish?” He’d begun, breath heavy with the smell of whiskey. Gideon had to stop his eyes from tearing, had to fight to keep his eyes, cold as stone, on the man and to stand his ground. A shit-eating grin had made its way to grace his lips, head tilting in such a way that it could only cause annoyance. “Oh I see- you think it’s a joke? The Harpies kickin their arse ain’t no joke!”

It was momentous, his slurring speech had caused a speck of spit to fly skilfully into the air and land onto his cheek, producing a grimace from Gideon. He’d moved his hand to wipe his cheek, smile still poised onto his lips.

  “Listen, mate. I didn’t say anything. It’s just a match-“

   “Just a match?! All lies.” At the rate he was flouncing about, Gideon was surprised that he hadn’t fallen on his arse and liked a turtle on its shell had not been able to get up again. In truthfulness, there were more questionable things in life- like, one would say, the Harpies’ victory over the Irish. Not that he’d say it out loud.

Well, not with his mouth. His face however? It seemed to say a million words, or so that was what Molly often said… and he understood that it his family, for what it was, whatever Molly Prewett said goes.

He was about to let it go- ‘be the bigger man’ as he was often taught, but the things the next venomous words that had left the larger wizard’s lips left nothing but boiling blood inside of Gideon.

   “I know you- ain’t ya sister… I bet she supports the Harpies. Knows how ta ride a broom too, the fiery little thing.”

His face had dropped at a moment’s notice as the man’s hand had moved to grab his wand- Gideon had scoffed at the gesture.

   “What, scared ta use your wand?”

His tone was low, eyes clouded in an anger that seemed unimaginable, at least for him.

   “I don’t pedal backwards, but I live old-fashioned.” And with that he’d raised his fist and went straight towards trying to knock the bastard’s teeth down his throat.

[getthelala-deactivated20190721]

♣ Endless Pictures of Richard Madden {7-8/∞}

[joshsasses]

Richard Madden for Grazia Italia.

[warriorxprewett-blog]

a cure for restlessness | open starter

[warriorxprewett-blog]

@darkxwithin

Rosemary had seen him around, but couldn’t quite place the face. She was always better with names because in her job, she made it a necessity to remember them and if she didn’t know a person, make sure she found out exactly who they were. Faces, however–she just saw too many of them and the raven-haired witch could be found in many different places, from Hogwarts to the ministry itself and even more obscure locations. At a guess, she would say she’d seen him at the ministry, but wasn’t about to say anything to him yet.

“Oh I’m a model of innocence me, sweetheart.”

If she could choke on lies, she would be finding it difficult to breathe right now, but it wasn’t anything serious. In fact, Rosemary was just being playful. He was entertaining enough and had the potential to keep her attention, which was more than most could do.

“Well I do like it so…..you may have to dig deep into those pockets of yours and buy more drinks….unless you are a one drink limit kinda guy when buying others……”

Her brow cocked and she smirked.

“Are you?”

Bringing the drink to her mouth again, Rosemary took another sip of it and swallowed, letting the liquid coat the inside of her throat.

“Gideon Prewett….right.”

A seductive yet mischievous expression took form on her face. His surname alone indicated a pure-blood. She made it her business to know the family names of them after all.

“But of course…we have to exchange names before we get to second base…..it’s first base requirements.”

She wiggled her brow, there was nothing inhibited about her at all–even in jest, she could be very blunt.

–he didn’t ask her name, so she didn’t give it. It was that simple.

“I was meant to be meeting someone in here…but the bloody fool isn’t going to turn up by the looks of it. So you will have to put up with me a little longer.”

–and with that, the raven-haired witch shot him a flirty wink.

Gideon’s face was quick to display some entertainment towards the conversation he found himself in. There was always some excitement in meeting someone who posed more of a challenge, an intellectual interest which piqued the red-headed boy. His features were musing, eyes transfixed on hers as he’d chuckled at her statement. She certainly did seem like the type of girl to get herself into trouble; if that wasn’t the case then they wouldn’t be speaking to each other, and she would’ve brushed him off as trouble as soon as the situation began.

   “I’d easily vouch against the statement. Have you seen yourself?” He seemed comfortable enough to not ask for her name, because the predicament didn’t seem entirely dreadful or dangerous in the least, but he figured that it would simply be rude not to ask her to return the favour that she’d so quickly asked from him. “I wouldn’t mind a name- unless I’ll have to use other means to search for it.”

It was only a jest, of course, but the concept of the challenge still seemed to melt the liquid blue of his eyes, making them glisten both in entertainment and interest. What was in a name? Most names didn’t seem too entertaining, they didn’t really pique much interest from the red-head unless they presented themselves to him with the crescent of the Ministry and a mission to go hand-in-hand.

He was quick to gesture to Edgar, hand raising to signal for another round of drinks, as per her request. It probably woke the Gryffindor in him, a feeling of nobility always having gone along with being in a company of a beautiful woman who seemed harmless enough- although Gideon’s judgement on such things never really equated much, if one was to recount any of the previous mishaps that he often found himself in.

   “Was that meant to trouble me? Being in your company?” A smile leaked onto his lips, his head shaking slightly as his gaze dropped to the woman in front of him. “I think that means you’ll definitely need to get to know me.”

[pevensis]

[warriorxprewett-blog]

a cure for restlessness | open starter

[warriorxprewett-blog]

@darkxwithin

Rosemary would like to know who was pure-blood just by looking at them, but unfortunately, it never worked like that. What she did know though, was if they were one once she heard the surname. When she was growing up, it came with the territory so to speak and just continued as she got older. Even though class really shouldn’t matter, it always did to her and even though there was the odd one along the way who wasn’t pure-blood who she might have gone easier on, it was very few and far between.

“A serious offence, hm?”

She tilted her head, amusement playing on her lips.

“Maybe I like getting into trouble….”

She offered him a playful response when in fact, there were certain times she didn’t like trouble. Usually when she was made to fall into line, but there were very few who could do that and she knew exactly who they were.

Rosemary’s mouth opened slightly, ruby red lips poised as though she was going to object to buying him a drink, yet she paused until he had finished what he was saying. She purposely let her gaze linger on him, something the raven-haired witch was good at and not one air of awkwardness filled her bones.

“And exactly how the hell would you know what drink I’d like?”

A slender brow rose and then she shifted her visual momentarily just to check there wasn’t someone looking around for her. The informant she was meant to be meeting wasn’t the most reliable and if he let her down this time, he would regret it because she would find him and make him wish he hadn’t.

“But seeing as you’re trying to be a bloody gent and all…”

Rosemary reached out and took hold of the drink. In truth, there wasn’t really much she didn’t like when it came to alcoholic beverages. So she brought it to her mouth and took a sip, letting her tongue run gently over her lips to catch the residue liquor.

“Oh, darlin’…I wouldn’t be bothered if you were offended or not.”–and that was definitely the truth. “Though I do have to know your name if you have bought me a drink…..”

Gideon had found that a playful tilt of the head did wonders for him. He was casual in the sip of his drink, body pressed easily against the counter of the bar as he’d glanced towards the girl, nodding lightly along with her statement. A smirk had moved to his lips, a nod of his head showing his agreement as he pretended to look somewhat pensive.

      “Oh really? I never would’ve guessed.” It didn’t have too heavy of a meaning, but the gut always seemed to know these things. People who were trouble often attracted those of the same calibre- of course there were many different levels of trouble. Gideon entertained that thought that his trouble was lighter, more bothersome, in nature. “Birds of a feather flock together. Ain’t that the saying?”

He was unflinching at her stare, a hand casually moving the drink up to his lips once more as he took a hearty sip. There didn’t seem a much better way to spend the night than with the company of a person who struggled to agree with him- it made things far more interesting than anything else.

     “I told you, I don’t mind if you don’t like it.” The look on his face seemed to prove otherwise, but his smile had grown as one hand slid to his pocket, face turning to face hers with more intent. “Matters that I do. That way, if you don’t like it, I’ll have another for me.”

He was only jesting, of course, but conversations like these spouted easily from his lips, a retort always ready. That was how it was when one had siblings- perhaps having Fabian as a brother had poisoned his mind into thinking that he always needed to have a reply to everything. The quality seemed to always work in all of his endeavours, so he didn’t really want to complain too much.

      “My name? Already? You gonna ask for my hand next?” His eyes fluttered playfully at her, head tilting slightly as he obliged to her request. “Gideon Prewett, at your service.”

It seemed strange, the power in a name. In these times it seemed that names were all that mattered- he knew that a war could only be fought with words for so long until other means had to be used.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it whilst he can.

[warriorxprewett-blog]

a cure for restlessness | open starter

[warriorxprewett-blog]

@darkxwithin

Rosemary had received word of some important informant who could help expose a certain witch or wizard who was following the Dark Lord and for some reason, this informant was going for the glory of plastering it all over the witch weekly, rather than taking it through legal channels. It suited her fine because she really did have no intention of exposing anyone who chose the same dark path she did–but nobody else had to know that. So with the cover of her job, she had agreed to meet them at a specific time.

—yet after waiting impatiently for what felt like ages, the young witch decided to accept they’d bailed on her or something had gone wrong.

She was silently cussing to herself because she knew she would have to let Rodolphus know who this informant was, but she was hoping to get all she needed first before passing it over to him–call it a little bit of stubbornnes on her part.

As she was about to head to his office, an owl came through for her, stating a different time and meeting, but there was an air of annoyance which rippled through her at the way whoever they thought they were, could just cancel and waste her time like that.

So Rosemary inhaled deeply and kept her composure, one hand ran through her raven locks and swiped a few tousles away from her face. She looked around at those who passed her by and then she continued on her way, deciding to stop by the ministry to see if her cousin was there.

It didn’t take long for her to start thinking about the second attempt at meeting this informant, once she realised Rod wasn’t in his office. So Rosemary headed for the Three Broomsticks– a location she was famliar with and where she was meant to be meeting them.

Entering the pub, it was as she expected, far too busy and public for her liking, but once they showed themselves, she had every intention of retiring to somewhere more private and discreet. After all, if murder is in mind then you don’t want an audience, right?

With that on her mind, she didn’t judge the distance between her and the male at the bar, resulting in a collision of the two bodies. Letting her dark hues slide to his facial features, she smirked.

“Oh I’m sorry, darlin’….I’m sure that firewhiskey would do better inside of you instead of all over the bar top.”

Gideon’s eyes had glanced upon the girl, his eyes widening in the slightest as he’d looked down over her. She was smaller in stature than the man, didn’t seem at all capable of knocking him over with such force. It reminded him of how easy it was to misjudge, and also made him realise that if he was having a shite day that there was noth8ing more than an attractive face that could help soothe the pain. A small smirk had raised to his lips at her comment, some of the liquid had seeped into his grey, knitted sweater- but he didn’t seem to mind too much. Instead he’d shrugged gently, an apologetic smile directed towards Edgar who he knew would send someone to clean it up.

     “If you knock into me a second time, then it’d be a serious offence.” His hand had moved to grip through his hair, running through it lightly as he’d smirked down towards the girl. Moments like these were what he liked to call happy accidents- something that he could more easily use to weasel himself out of the situation of boredom that he’d found himself in. “But now you owe me a drink-“

He’d moved to rub his chin, a false dilemma seeming to inhabit his face. Gideon didn’t question the authenticity in her apology- she seemed to have had far too much on her mind to have seen him. Gideon was gauging her reaction carefully, eyes fixed on the girl’s expression. She didn’t seem like the type that would want to be asked- the fact that she was that way made her seem way more viable as a companion than any of the other people in the bar.

     “Now, I’m not really the type to let a lady buy me a drink-“ He’d begun cautiously. “So here’s the deal I’m laying on the firewhiskey-soaked counter top. I’ll get me a drink- and then I’ll get you a drink. That way, when you career into somebody else, they won’t think you’ve done it on purpose.”

He’d waited patiently until Edgar was ready, and before he could even say Hufflepuff there seemed to be two drinks in front of him. He’d taken a sip of one, eyes on the raven-haired girl as he’d nodded towards the other, lonelier, drink.

    “Don’t worry about me, I won’t feel offended if you say no.” A smirk had raised to his lips, a small shrug of indifference on his shoulders. “Just be another drink for me.”

[rosetylecr]

[warriorxprewett-blog]

a swing and a miss | G & A | flashback

Seemed like nothing short of fate that night that Fabian had decided (once again) to ditch Gideon. If he was being honest that would’ve been a massive lie. Fabian had seemed to be on a tangent of wanting to distance himself from his older brother (Gideon, in all honestly, had no proper clue as to why).

That was why he’d found himself alone, staring up at the roof in sheer boredom. He hadn’t expected the night to be so lonely- the thought alone had made his foot start tapping and his eyes restlessly dart around. Tracing patterns on the wood of the bar, Gideon had launched himself forward, eyes meeting Edgar’s with a glint of mischief.

     “Oi, another round here, please?” It would’ve seemed rude, had they both not known each other. Edgar seemed inundated with all of the people around, the energy of the room was buzzing and as a young man… well, it was easy to say that the energy was palpable.

His eyes had roamed the room, leaning back against the bar as he’d waited for a drink. It seemed easy enough, to scour the room for some company. Most sane men didn’t seem too into hanging out, so it seemed only plausible for it to be a woman’s company that he searched for. Gideon didn’t seem too fussed or concerned with his affinity for women- they were all beautiful creatures and he didn’t have any reservations in admiring their beauty; both from afar and up close, although he did much prefer the latter.

The moments after needed a disclaimer; Gideon Prewett did not hold himself accountable for what he deems embarrassing behaviour, it just seemed that when the right time and place was bestowed upon you it was easy to choke and make an utter twat of yourself.

He’d spotted the girl before she’d even seen him. She was a small thing, much smaller in stature than him- with a face that he’d never seen before. That was always exciting, to see a face that wasn’t familiar, a new story to be explored and new heart that would surely fall deep into his graces. Gideon Prewett had absolutely no clue how wrong he was, if he’d thought about this moment in future, he’d be sure that there’d be a million ways he’d changed what he’d done. But the past is always set in stone, unless Gideon managed to gain access to some illegal paraphernalia.

His confident steps grew quiet as he’d approached, an attempt to look somewhat ‘cool’ faltering in the light of the girl. This was the moment that was sure to embarrass him- not just know, but in the future. He was sure the long line of Prewett’s would laugh their little red-headed arses off at how simply idiotic his approach had been. But, regardless, he was a young man and young men needed moments to make mistakes- how would he get better otherwise?

       “Your hand looks quite lonely…” He’d started, voice somewhat cracking despite his very attempts at confidence. “I think I can remedy that. Would you like a drink?”

A swing and a miss.

@bewarethesirenscall

[warriorxprewett-blog]

a cure for restlessness | open starter

It was painful.

His day had started more hopefully than the last, twisted in sheets and skin and the company of a woman he barely remembered meeting. The blissful start of the day had almost convinced him of how successful today would be, but Gideon was not at all prepared for the scene that would meet him upon his arrival at the Ministry.

The only thing worse than a mass attack and a large clean-up? A day of misery and boredom and nothing at all.

A loud groan had escaped his lips at the sight, the large unattended piles of paperwork that he’d been putting off even touching for the longest time. They were slightly tilted to the side, dusty and unloved. Gideon thought that it’d stay that way, that any change would prove nothing more than a health hazard to himself and his hard-working peers. It was pure torture, he’d thought to himself, that he had been sitting there for a few hours with the only company in the room being the scratching of his quill against the parchment. It must’ve been a trick, a crude prank orchestrated by Fabian. Perhaps his younger twin had tried to gain revenge for all of the mishaps that Gideon had descended upon him and everybody in the Ministry had decided that he’d have to sit and write for the whole damn day.

His feet were tapping restlessly to an unknown beat, movements jittering through his rickety seat. Gideon hated sitting down- he couldn’t stand doing the same thing over and over, let alone for a time as long as this. Wasn’t the reason why he’d chosen this job in the first place the excitement that it gave him? It seemed the excitement was non-existent on this day, that or Merlin had decided to punish him for whatever reckless thing he’d done.

He couldn’t wait to leave. He’d almost propelled himself at the last tick of the clock, enough of the day that was had. The boredom had made his mood far more untypical than usual, called for a strong thirst of fun and firewhiskey. That was what settled him for a short time, quick steps moving him towards the Three Broomsticks, the light finally settling in his eyes. He’d pulled his coat loose as he’d stepped into the buzzing atmosphere, stealthily slipping in between people as he’d moved towards the bar, grinning when a small shot glass of firewhiskey was placed in front of it.

The cherry of top of the day, it seemed, was the body that pushed into his, causing all of it to spill all over the counter top.

     “Oh bloody hell…”

[crazeforfashion]

Richard Madden for NYLON Magazine 2015

[silencio-rparchived]

Gideon Prewett ✦ 30 ✦ Pure Blood ✦ Order ✦ Gryffindor

“ Truth in my lies right now are falling like the rain so let the river run ”

Traits

+ Charming   /   + Charismatic   /   + Courageous - Arrogant   /   - Unstable   /   - Reckless

Description

The older twin and oldest brother, Gideon has always had the best of both worlds. Seriously determined in the face of danger yet enticingly charismatic by nature. Like his brother, he has a thirst for justice, wanting to do right by the Order and do his part to end the war. However, his arrogance is often his downfall- as is his inability to stay away from his escapades. His charisma generally attracts those he desires but is often the reason Gideon holds a permanent residency in hot water. Being the older twin doesn’t always make you the wiser one.

Connections

Fabian & Molly Prewett: Whilst he may be the oldest child, Gideon enjoys breaking stereotypes. He is neither peaceful nor diplomatic, those traits were given to his younger twin instead. He is often the reason for his siblings stress and worry, yet despite all that he loves them with all that he has. 

Narcissa Black: The petty blonde had been hovering around him of late, asking endless questions about Molly and her friendship with Andromeda. It was getting on his last nerve. He wasn’t buying the glitz and glamour routine she was using to impress Ministry Officials, and any woman on the arm of Lucius Malfoy was bad news. 

Arielle Delacour: Despite his history with women, there was something about the sweet innocence of Arielle that lured him in. Of course, she shut him down every time but one day? He’d find a chink in her armour, strip her of those strong defences and worm his way inside.

Occupation: Ministry of Magic - Obliviator Faceclaim: Richard Madden Status: Unfortunately for you Gideon is Taken!