(closed RP) at the Hog's Head

[superfraternal.livejournal.com]

The Hog's Head seemed like the right kind of place for conversations of a politically risky sort. Simon knew about the place thanks to some acquaintances who'd been longer at the school than his present, post-repopcorning incarnation. It actually featured in some wizarding history: a goblin rebellion had been plotted here, centuries ago. Whether the Hog's Head sheltered those who were for or who were against the goblins, the book didn't say.

Simon had seen worse places, first in his dealings with the underground movement who helped get River out of the Alliance's clutches, and later with the crew of Serenity. The Hog's Head was about as welcoming and as hygienic as the bar full of mudders on Higgins' Moon. Mudders, people who ... harvested mud, for a living. Wizards didn't have an excuse, Simon thought, frowning into his drink. Wizards knew cleaning charms and scouring spells. What disincentive toward cleaning could they possibly have?

He had ample time to rue his choice of meeting place, as it seemed the enigmatic 'EnigmaWriter' was wise enough to rethink the rendezvous. Time dragged past the hour they'd agreed upon, and Simon saw no one with red hair who wasn't wearing wizarding garb. Actually, he didn't see anyone with red hair at all, since most of the people who went to the Hog's Head were very into headcoverings. Orthodox religion? he wondered idly. He had a book to read, but no one here seemed literate, so he pretended to be very interested in his drink, like the other people here.

He couldn't have stood out any more if he'd tried, short of donning a clown suit and dancing on the table.