Where's InDeed when you need it?

[royal_venant]

Who: Regulus and Sam
What: Regulus needs help and he’s finally hit the point of asking for it
When: now
Where: Starts at Sam’s
Rating/Warnings: Probably low


Regulus tapped a tight, sharp knock on Sam’s door with one hand while holding a paper in his other hand.

And as soon as the door opened, he was talking.

“I think the newspapers here are broken.”

He probably should have mentioned how he needed some help interpreting what he read in the paper, but clearly, it was the paper that was defective, not he.

Comments

[thegreatexperiment]

Sam used to think she knew about the shadows.

And then she was fucking murdered by a couple of vampires--she didn't even know which one was ultimately responsible--and ended up in this fucked-up limbo of existence.

All she did was shrug. "Okay." She scanned the first posting. "Here's a listing for a cab driver. Do you know how to drive a car?" It was a pretty low bar, but she knew plenty of New Yorkers who never bothered learning. "All you have to do is pick people up and drop them off...where ever they ask."

Wait. Which side of the road did they drive on in England?

[royal_venant]

Regulus drew back as if he'd been shocked with a jolt of electricity.

Regulus can always make the bar go lower.

"I've never even ridden in one!" he said.

It would be a bad fit all around, even if he didn't have some lingering purist prejudices about muggle inventions. He'd also have to figure out how to act around, well, muggles. Which was a work in progress for him. A month and a half living in this new city, displaced from his privileged comforts, and forced to exist alongside muggles just wasn't enough time to toss him into a customer service-facing job. He'd get no-star reviews every time, or nearly so.

Maybe he should start by telling Sam what he was good at.

"Anything for someone who is good with charms or the magical application of numbers or wards or... curse breaking?"

[thegreatexperiment]

The look she gave him was less one of shock and more one of pity. While she was hardly any kind of gear head--doubly so after the way she saw Max use his machines to rip people apart--she absolutely loved cars. Or maybe it was just that she liked going fast. Either way, she was pretty sure the poor boy had no idea what he was missing.

Okay, hierarchy of needs.

Get him settled first. Then show him the wonders of the internal combustion engine.

She turned back to the newspaper for a moment, a little line forming between her eyes before she paused, halfway down the first column. "Well, it's not exactly a magical application of numbers, but it looks like this shop is looking for a cashier." Leaving nothing to chance, she decided to fill in the rest. "That's the person in charge of taking someone's money, calculating their tab, and making change."