why [roland] do I put myself in these situations

[sammy]

Without putting much thought into the act, Sam stuffed all of her quidditch equipment into her magical extended back-up. Why she needed so much protection she’d never know, a few blows never hurt her, she’d grown up in a family full of boys after all. Though it was the robes that seemed to take up the majority of the space in her bag; she had to force them in will all of her weight before struggling to close it. The whole ordeal had the entire locker room of woman looking at her and a few laughing, though she brushed it off and pulled on her jeans sluggishly, a little tired from practice and still a little wet from her shower. Just as slowly, she pulled on her shirts and the rest of the stuff she’d been wearing this morning, wondering why in Merlin’s name did she pick so many layers, before she slung her bad over her shoulder and apparated away from the pitch and out of Wales altogether.

Though her original plan was to pop in at her parents’ house and steal whatever they were having for dinner, she found herself gravitating toward the Starbucks near the designated apparation area. Once the warm mug was securely in her hand, she made her way toward the Leaky Cauldron where she’d hopefully get a stiff drink and something to eat. Sam wasn’t quite sure what time it was, but anytime could be alcohol time, if you asked her. The inn was fairly crowded as it usually was, and Sam settled for a seat at the bar instead of fishing for a table and possibly waiting forever to sit down. Her legs felt like they were going to give out. She’d taken a longer than usual run this morning before practice, than she’d done a few laps at the pitch before getting on her broom, and she’d just walked the entire way here, not to mention the few times she’d been hit off her broom today were making her ache everywhere. But still, Sam didn’t complain and sucked it up. She was used to a little exhaustion and physical pain; it came with the job description.

Hannah Longbottom seemed to understand her request, as unintelligible as it was, and smiled a little at the young woman before heading off. Sam rubbed her forehead slightly, messaging a bump that was beginning to form there. Why she was so tired, she wasn’t sure. She was usually bursting with energy, but she hadn’t eaten much today. Or well, she hadn’t eaten much to her standards. Disregarding the people around her, Sam let her head drop and her forehead clunk against the counter, not really caring who was watching her.

454 words | roland/steve | click here | one. more. sam. post. :D

[rolandmendraka]

The wind was howling, and the chatter from the tavern is what drove this mad-man forward. The sanity that he clung to was the long-lost revelation he had in meeting his long-forgotten friends, oh how boring was this intro, he thought to himself, and decided to just go with the flow for a change. Roland, had many ways to interpret his own life on how to enter it into a journal, and that was definitely one way to bore the reader of course. Now putting it in a chorus, that could be amusing with a high-pitched voice singing the back-ground noise. In the mysterious hours of the night, a lone wolf walked, and prowled through the night with a rough-looking cloak worn over his entire body. Wrapped as if he were a shroud of darkness not wanting to be seen," and then he stopped himself from writing anything further.

That was almost too legendary to his standards, and really wanted something in between. Needing ideas, he decided to head to a tavern after all the crap he had been put through lately. Letting a hand come up to stroke his smooth clean-shaven face in thought, but once had a beard when he had been the free-lancer known as Rolo. A lot of people recognized his face whenever he showed it around the pubs since he had a lot more free time after avenging his brothers killer. Lacking any real information had been why he had disappeared for so long and just out of the blue showed up. Alexis had been the hardest one to convince and then there was still one person remaining he had to clear things up with. Taylor, and she wasn't going to be easy to win over due to the fact he had also disappeared on her too.

Sadly, this was how he had left things, and fixing them was definitely going to be a huge challenge. At least he was finally putting his own pieces together and building himself up back to the man he once was. Known as Roland, not some false alias he had created to hide among the common people, and wore a death eater's mask to spread the word that they were still out there. It was amusing how many people thought another dark lord or lady was rising thanks to that ruse, but he assured everyone it was just a mask. Luckily, he didn't harm anyone whenever he was around them, but usually was good at keeping his cool. Finally he just entered the tavern to hear silence as he waltzed in there, and then just merely tossed his head back as people resumed their business.

Yeah, that's what I thought, don't want to mess with the tough guy and his awesome figure, Roland chuckled to himself, but he did have quite the figure after all since he worked out almost every day now. It was vital to keep up the healthy appetite too when he was on the prowl for food, and had learned to live in the harshest of weather in the cold via his animagus form. Now back to the tavern, he was just walking up to the bar to get a fire whiskey to ease his worries, and have a good time. Noticing a woman who wasn't having such a wonderful time, but he ordered her a butter beer just for the hell of it. Deciding to give it to her on the house, and finally spoke out towards her. "Rough day, huh? Roland's my name by the way, no need for yours if you don't wish to tell it," was all he said to her, being rather modest for someone who just waltzed in to buy a random stranger a drink.

It wasn't even cause she was quite pretty, but he already had someone in his life so that wasn't on his agenda.

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[sammy]

Sam remembered her years at Hogwarts very fondly. She hadn’t been one of the ‘popular’ girls, nor was she particularly recognized for being good at school or a prefect, or even quidditch really (the Hufflepuff team was always seriously underrated even though they’d produced some great professional players), she’d coasted through under the radar, completely content in doing so. When she’d been younger, few things had mattered to her; she didn’t pay bills, she didn’t worry about relationships, going to work, trying to impress her boss... not that any of those things worried her now, they just seemed like something she should be worried about. Sam had always taken it easy, let things come as they may and deal with them when they happened. To her, there was no reason to get all worked out about something that may not even happen or something that was way too far into the future.

Sam had always concentrated on the ‘now’ factor with everything. Right now, she was hungry and needed a drink, after she finished her coffee and woke herself up a bit. She wasn’t worrying about cleaning the house today, or whether or not she’d brave her parents’ house because she knew her eldest brother would be there tonight with his wife, and she most certainly wasn’t concerned that he’d eventually get her pregnant. Actually, yes, that was a concern... and she really hoped that it wouldn’t happen. Sam was still hoping her brother would see the light of reason and divorce the horrible woman, but so far, she’s had no such luck. Her entire family seemed to be enraptured with Marissa, despite the fact that Sammy was quite vocal about her dislike for the girl.

It hardly seemed fair, really, that her family would chose an outsider over her. Even though it was probably because Marissa was a ‘proper young lady’ who didn’t roll around in dirt, or dress like a boy and had a cushy desk job at the Ministry, it still bugger her. Yes, Little Miss Perfect was a new addition to the family and they needed to treat her well, but could they really not see what a horrid bitch she was? Sam scoffed into the wood of the bar at that; of course they didn’t, she was only a nasty little witch when they weren’t watching. Sam had the oddest inkling that she wanted something, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

Well, Sam decided, that was enough of that. Thinking about it wasn’t serving her any good at the moment, and she brought herself up slowly, only to find a butterbeer placed in front of her that she wasn’t sure she had ordered. Unless she had asked for it. She wasn’t sure her message to Hannah had been communicated in an intelligible way. Regardless, she popped open the lid of her coffee, poured a little of the butterscotch liquid into it and stirred before putting the cap back on. She’s always liked mixing things, and she knew that coffee with butterbeer in it was much better than it sounded. After taking a drink of both, she turned to the voice that was obviously speaking to her; no one else looked quite so rattled as she did.

“You have no bloody idea!” she said with a probably louder than necessary laugh. That was the way to do it Sam, she reminded herself. Laugh it off, it’s not all that bad. “Sam,” she greeted with a smile, offering her hand. “Sam O’Keefe,” she repeated, trying to remember some semblance of manners that she’d never really learned. “Nice to meet you, Roland.”


607 words | roland/steve | click here | one. more. sam. post. :D

[rolandmendraka]

"Haha, I doubt your serious worries could be as bad as mine, but we won't delve into that...this is a night for drinking our worries away obviously. Pleasure to meet you, Sam, and trust me I probably have an idea...considering when your life starts in shambles...or you had no life previously at all," was all he said letting her fill in the dots as he merely just sat there ordering a fire whiskey after downing his own butter beer and was obviously a regular of some form...despite his rather appealing figure. Yes, he smoothed back his hood and smiled warmly to her as he nodded towards her in a greeting. This was unusual, but he was going to make the best of the evening while the night was still young and thought that nothing bad would occur from this meeting at all.

In fact, probably nothing would happen unless he got too drunk, but he was very tolerable with his alcohol unless he wasted it away like some fish trying to drink it's way through a bowl of tequila. Now that thought was amusing and decided to voice his concern about it, "Haha, but I guess you chose a good night then, when it's one of the few quiet evenings at least," he noted how there was rarely anyone there. Although, that made it better for Roland since he preferred silence over the loud, obnoxious sounds of glasses crashing after some drunken idiot crashed into another.

Oh, wait, the night was still young, and there was still the opportunity for said bar brawls to break out still even if the inn-keeper was rather sturdy with her words. Roland would have his own way with anyone trying to cause trouble tonight especially with Sam here, feeling all down as she was. Wondering what was up with her, but decided not to pry into her personal life. After all, he had his own crap to worry about and really didn't want to burden anyone else with his sad tales. Even if his brother's anniversary for the day he had died had passed at least five months ago, and he still hadn't shed one tear over it.

Roland considered something was wrong with him, but through the years he had learned to cope with the fact he'd never see his brother again as he finally finished that shot of fire whiskey to turn back to her. "So, what have you done to lead up to such a brutal evening?" he said to her, offering a rather warmhearted smile.

Notes; YAY YOU CAN MAKE HER NOW :DDD

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[sammy]

“You’re right on that mate,” Sam said with another laugh. “Your worries have to be worse than mine, considering I don’t have many... if any actually,” she said with a firm nod and felt like laughing again. Maybe that was her problem; she didn’t take life seriously enough. Sam didn’t feel the same need to forward themselves for the benefit of society that the rest of the world seemed to. She was content just doing what she needed to do to get by, and have some fun in between. Was that wrong? She didn’t think so. “Cheers to no lives!” she said, raising the rest of her butterbeer before gulping it down quickly and returning to her semi-cold coffee. “Except... well... shambles sounds like hippogriff balls to me; something I’ve rather never deal with.” She nodded once again and didn’t register how obnoxious she may have sounded.

Naturally, Sam wasn’t the most well-mannered person, and when she was stuck into a pub all semblance of the meagre etiquette she’d been taught flew out the window. She wanted to enjoy herself, and she couldn’t very well do that if she was worrying about sitting like a lady –so she hunched over and let her legs fall where they pleased- and she was damn well going to put her elbows on the counter if she wanted to. The drool, however, she tried to wipe up, as Hannah came and placed a steaming plate of ribs and shishkabobs in front of her. “Thanks Hannah,” she said and pushed her hat back to pull her blonde locks back a little.

“Yeah,” she said before grabbing one of the larger ribs. “It’s been a little dull around here lately. Looks like Hannah’s cleaning up the place.” Sam took the biggest bite she could muster, and let the piece of meat just fall apart in her mouth. Merlin, if she ever found a man who could barbeque like this... “Makes it a little boring though,” she added, shrugging after she swallowed. Never had Sam ever said no to a fight, except with bar fights, they were a tad more dangerous than brawling at home with her brothers, and she had to watch her back. Violence wasn’t second-nature to her, she was pretty much a pacifist in all aspects of the word, but she’d grown up fighting with her brothers, physically, and it was still fun for her. Especially that adrenaline rush you get right before the first punch. “I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing some blood,” she said and continued munching.

Rather unladylikely, Sam wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before taking a large swig of her coffee and answering him. “Tried to run myself into an early grave, fell off my broom more than usual, captain tried to bludgeon me to death ... Take your pick.” Sam knew that Georgina would never kill her, but sometimes she felt like if she wasn’t Georgie’s best friend, she’d have been gone quite a while ago. Georgie did not appreciate it when Sam wasn’t in the game, and had her head in other matters, which was rare, but it had happened today, and now she was paying the price. A price she was getting back by eating her weight in ribs.


546 words | roland/steve | click here | and she is le made~

[rolandmendraka]

Roland really didn't mind that she was letting loose and it seemed to him that it was best to do in said situation when your life was down the drain and you really had nothing left to work off of. It was almost like the clock was ticking against you, but you had nowhere to run from it or tried to hide yet it still bit you in the ass on the way out. Even crawling out from underneath a rock wouldn't have saved his ass in the long run, but these metaphors were really cramping his style with his thoughts. Normally he'd have been hitting on such a hot girl that was messed up, but his morals told him not to screw things up with Alexis. That, and he sort of liked her just as a little sister due to how young she looked.

Beaming with that ripe age where you could just not care about whatever anyone thought of you and it was there at the same time that he realized how much he had missed hanging out with his own little triad of friends. Wondering if that joyous occasion would ever happen again as he decided to order a full glass of fire whiskey this time instead, and merely nodded towards Sammy whenever she spoke just to make sure he was acknowledging her without seeming like too much of a downer. Now that was weird, since when was Roland not the life of a party...well since his brother died obviously. That was one way to damper his spirits was talking about family in any fashion, and it was easy to get rid of him too.

Registering the words she just said slowly within his mind nearly knocked him off his seat when she said something about a captain related to quidditch...and realized she might be from one of the teams. Yes, he wasn't totally out of the loop and had many things he knew about the outside world since he liked to read the daily prophet almost every day even during the time he had disappeared. "I knew I should have recognized you, you're from the Holyhead Harpies aren't you?" he asked rather calmly as if stating a matter-of-fact question that just needed a simple yes...yet he had said it rather quietly so no one else would hear in case they decided to just jump her for an autograph out of nowhere. It wasn't common-place for that to happen, but "Rolo" had gotten a few people like that, where they somehow knew where he was going to be next.

Luckily, he kept every single plan that he could to himself now, and never revealed anything, also the reason why I don't talk much, he said to himself. 'Other than that, huh? Well, let's see I only skipped out on my life for the past seventeen years on a silly quest for...justice, so to speak..nothing intense...and please, I do not wish to go into the details...still, things are better now...I've apologized to most of my friends at least," he added, and raised his glass to her nodding as he downed his next fire whiskey and almost felt his breath actually catching on fire.

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[sammy]

Sam shrugged noncommittally as if playing for a professional quidditch team wasn’t that big of a deal when in reality, it was to her. Quidditch was one of the few things she did well. Since she had missed the hard-working criteria for her former house, she wasn’t particularly good at school, and she hadn’t been sure of what direction she had wanted to go in after she’d finished Hogwarts. She didn’t have a ‘calling’ like anyone else did. While the rest of her class dreamt of growing up and becoming aurors, or healers or the next minister of magic, Sam just wanted to know what was for breakfast. Never had she ever given herself any long term goals, and once graduation came, that had definitely been a problem. The offer from the Holyhead Harpies had been something of a godsend, and she had been more than happy to accept it. She hadn’t looked back since, not that she ever did. She was quite happy where she was, playing under her best friend as seeker for one of the best teams in the world. She wouldn’t, however, ever get used to the fame.

“What gave me away?” she said. “Was it the hat or the sunglasses indoors?” she finished with a snort. Grabbing one of the shishkabobs and using her teeth to pull off the small pieces of meat. She’d offer him some, but she was hungry and not willing to share at the moment. Especially not these. It may just be because she was seriously hungry, but they tasted even better than they usually did. Hannah and the rest of the kitchen had seriously outdone themselves. “I’d give you an autograph,” she said, putting down the now-bare skewer. “But I’m afraid I’ve got barbeque fingers,” she said with a laugh, wiggling her sauce-covered fingers in his direction before wiping them on a napkin and pulling off her sunglasses and beanie. It was a little useless to wear them now that someone knew who she was. Though she probably shouldn’t have said her name to begin with. Usually, no one actually recognized her name. In the quidditch world she was affectionately known as Keefey, and almost nothing else unless they were introducing the rosters. It was a name she’d adopted in Hogwarts. Samantha O’Keefe was quite the mouthful for any announcer, so it had been shorted to Keefe and had become Keefey after only a few games. She quite liked it.

“That sounds...” she said, pausing, toning herself down a little now that her stomach was semi-appeased. “Horrible, actually. Didn’t you miss your friends and family?” she asked innocently, taking a nothing drink of her cold, butterscotch flavoured coffee. She’d never be able to stay away from her family or her friends for that long. Sam loved being around people she loved. “I won’t ask for details, trust me. I’m not exactly sensitive to other people’s problems, I’d probably only make it worse.” Well, at least she was honest. “I do hope you know that there are some things that apologies can’t fix, though.”


513 words | roland/steve | click here | yeah, she's an insensitive dork

[rolandmendraka]

Roland was satisfied with just letting Sammy have her way and finally just wanted to give in to her jokes just cause she was telling them as if she meant all of what she was saying. There was no semblance of sanity with what Roland had said, but he had to consider what he was telling her at the same time. Obviously, the fire whiskey was messing with all of those peculiar cells within his brain and even as he thought about that he was focused on Sammy's smile for a moment. That demeanor she had seemed to give the place a certain pizzaz that he didn't want to see leave the building at all, but he knew that deep down she was just some nice girl wanting to be loved or some bull crap like that. Roland honestly couldn't read her, but that was good news for him.

Not reading people was the best thing he could hope for in a possible future friend that he had no idea he'd be meeting a famous quidditch player tonight. Funny how small the world could be when you eventually ran into someone out in the middle of a pub that a lot of wizards traveled to. Mainly that bard, but he was just some regular strumming some tunes to entertain the older folks. Speaking of which, there had indeed many more old witches here than the last time he had visited..and most of them mainly feminine. Plus, they certainly weren't dressed appropriately in some cases, but never-the-less that bard never did any harm to them nor did he ask them to go with him to his room. It was obvious he was married, or the other option was he wasn't into women at all.

Roland foolishly believed it was the second option and continued chugging on his fire whiskey. It was just another day and he had spewed too much information about his life to her already. Luckily it wasn't the first time he had done something so overly foolish. Starting to just react to said offering he merely offered his hand to her as he tilted his head softly. "Sorry I don't do autographs, I only sign material things that can be thrown away when you see how old it is. Then it just fades away in the wind," he chuckled as he said this, being a total smart ass about her comment. Luckily, his sense of humor was quickly diminished when she actually agreed with him, but he answered her question none-the-less.

"It's easy to forget about them, but I didn't really consider them once I was working my way on to just basically getting my business done, plus I'm glad I didn't think about them since I wanted to leave them out of this. As for my family, well I'm considered dead to a lot of people, I mean, once you fake your own death it's hard to just walk back into their lives like I just did. Apologizing to them is harder than it looks," was all he mentioned as he took another sip of his drink letting a huge burp pass his lips as he covered his mouth softly with a little excuse me attached on the end of that.

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[sammy]

Sam laughed as she listened to him and shook his hand, probably holding it a bit tighter than he was used to a woman shaking his hand. Well, he was certainly interesting. She liked his sense of humour and he seemed like the type of person she could get along with well. Not that there was a type that she didn’t really get along with. Sam was fairly mellow when it came to people, and it took a lot to rile her up enough to see her nasty side, which was actually pretty scary, so most people were on her good side, or they were just indifferent toward each other. She was a friendly person, but she’d never push it on someone that clearly didn’t want it.

“Well, then, I won’t ask you to sign my arm,” she laughed and grabbed up her empty coffee mug, turning herself slightly to align with the garbage in the corner behind the bar. At one point, she’d been quite the basket-ball player, especially when she’d been in her pre-teen to early teen years and she’d towered over all the boys who hadn’t hit puberty yet. Vaguely, she wondered if she still had her skills, brought her arm back, and let fly. She watched the cup hit the side of the bar and fall into the darkness of the trash can, laughing to herself as it fell in. Yeup, she still had it.

“I don’t think I could that. I’m kind of attached to my family, by more than just the hip,” she laughed and ordered herself a firewhiskey, needing something much stronger than butterbeer to numb her muscle pains. “I mean, they’d probably be pissed at me, and I hate having people angry at me. I don’t think they’d forgive me. And I don’t think I could forgive myself for hurting them like that.” She laughed loudly at his belch and applauded. No, she was certainly not female.


513 words | roland/steve | click here | yeah, she's an insensitive dork

[rolandmendraka]

Roland was sitting there at the bar reminiscing a little without the interruption of her voice bringing him out of his thoughts, and he was grateful for that. After all those memories weren't exactly fond in particular and with all the crap he had seen there was a lot of baggage on his shoulders that he really didn't need. Having dragged himself into a tavern at this hour could really only mean one thing if he wanted to just have a good time. Drinking at a tavern alone, and he realized how much of a new low that was for him. So many other patrons were having a good time being loud and obnoxious as that wasn't really his cup of tea. Aside from the obvious calamity starting to keep himself from his own pleasure of enjoying a drink they called loneliness.

Although at least he wasn't drinking alone. (LOVE YOU IF YOU CATCH THAT REFERENCE XDD, Anyways) Soon as he started to just keep to himself, it seemed to get rather boring and nodding drearily in her direction soon just wanted to dunk his butter beer over her just to see her reaction. Of course, he wasn't the old hooligan he used to be back in the day and kept that glass in his hand for fear of wasting such a great drink. Nah, he wouldn't have splashed her, but the thought was amusing. Yet the look she would give him would have been priceless and he would be laughing while she hexed him probably. Soon that thought passed and he was contemplating what she was saying.

"You know what's cool? Besides winter, well, it's funny how much you can learn about someone just by sitting at a bar trying to drown your worries out. As well as how to just get your frustrations out too. Funny how a random stranger can ease those worries by having some other problem that gets them talking about that. Just a random concept haha, may I offer a suggestion, let's forget about all that stuff, and pretend like nothing's wrong with the world haha," he said to her holding up his butter beer in a cheer-like manner.

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