kiss with a fist // [zanna]

[Dominic Foster]

Dom was late. Not intentionally, but, yes, definitely late. He'd gotten caught up at work with a tense domestic disagreement that had gotten a lot worse before it got better. Luckily, none of the damage or accidental Transfigurations had been permanent, but the paperwork had taken hours, and now he was late to meet Zanna Stanley.

It was a bit of a toss up whether Zanna herself would actually turn up on time, but Dom could only imagine the deadly sarcasm he'd have to put up with if she had. He allowed himself a little wince and ran a little faster. He could have just Apparated, but Dom always felt rude just popping into a public place unless it was an emergency; he had a feeling this was one of those odd etiquette things he'd picked up from his mother, considering he'd met few other magical people who shared his opinion. Well, the culture clash that came with having a Muggleborn mother was bound to lead to some odd habits, he decided, and then swung into the door of the Leaky. 

He gave the room a quick glance, and relaxed a little when he didn't see Zanna. It was possible that he'd missed her in the crowded room, but still felt safe enough to wave the bartender over and order a Butterbeer. It was best to start conversations with Zanna sober, since more than likely he'd need a few shots of Firewhiskey by the time they were finished.

[Suzanne Stanley]

((OOC - I wasn't sure exactly what their relationship was meant to be at this point, so I went with them being reasonably good friends but nothing more (yet)? Oh, and here's what she's wearing!))

Zanna generally took the line that whenever she turned up was 'on time' and anything else was either late or early. Therefore she'd quite happily keep people waiting for ages, but could be extremely sarcastic if someone else was later than her. On this occasion, she too was later than the time they'd arranged, not for any particular reason, simply because she hadn't bothered to start getting ready until the time she was actually meant to be in the Leaky Cauldron. Of course, getting ready did not take all that much time for Zanna - it was a matter of flinging on some clean clothes and a pair of heels (she rarely went out without heels), grabbing a jacket, and she was done. Zanna herself had no qualms about being rude, and a quick Apparition later and she was arriving in the Leaky, supremely unconcerned by her lateness.

Looking around, she saw Dom standing by the bar. Dominic Foster was probably one of those people she wouldn't have bothered with at school (she hadn't bothered with most people) but these days they were quite good friends. That didn't stop her making fun of him (and especially his job as a law-keeper for the Ministry), but she did in fact like the guy, and had a lot of respect for him - as demonstrated by the fact that she would bother to argue with him, because she only did that with people whose opinions she actually valued. Plus, he was attractive, and it was always nice to have people around to look at.

Zanna headed over to him. She was in quite a mellow mood tonight, and was prepared to have a nice night out without being too vicious to anyone. Although she did plan on getting rather drunk, which meant she'd have to spend quite a lot of money, since her alcohol tolerance was high.

"Evening," she drawled, arriving beside him at the bar and glancing at his drink. "Only a Butterbeer? Well, we'll have to do something about that next round." She caught the barman's eye and ordered a Firewhisky (Zanna saw no point in starting on the soft stuff; spirits were always her drink of choice - except the odd occasion she went for red wine - and she usually had a bottle beside her while she worked), then turned back to him. "Well. How is everything at our wonderful Ministry?"

[Dominic Foster]

Dom turned and caught Zanna's eye after she greeted him. "Same to you," he said, giving her a grin and then glancing back around the room. "Were you here the whole time, or was I just the less late of us?" he asked dubiously. He caught sight of her heels and cocked an eyebrow. "Nice shoes," he muttered, a little impressed. No matter how casually she dressed, Zanna's footwear always seemed more appropriate for a formal party; this particular pair was flashy enough to stop traffic. Of course, the legs attached to the shoes probably helped, he mused. 

He scoffed at her comments on his drink. "Unlike your highness, I haven't got the alcohol tolerance of a Hippogriff -  not to mention, I can't afford a hangover at work tomorrow." Dom could freely admit to being a little jealous of the freedom Zanna's job gave her - as much good as he felt he was doing with the Hit Wizards, being able to set your own hours was a perk that she'd always be able to hold over him. And of course, he had no doubt that she'd convince him to get something a little stronger soon enough.

"Wonderfully busy making people's lives better, as always," Dom deadpanned, "How's the anti-establishment press?" He'd been tempted to say wonderfully boring, but being around Zanna always made him very defensive of the Ministry, even though he had firsthand experience with many of its bad qualities as well as its good ones.

[Suzanne Stanley]

"You were clearly early. I arrived at the perfect time," Zanna retorted. "Which was just now." She glanced down at her shoes as he complimented them. "Thanks. They're good, aren't they?" she agreed with a smile. Shoes were really the only part of her wardrobe Zanna cared much about - her other clothes tended to be whatever was lying around and did not need washing too desperately, but she was quite proud of her shoe collection.

"Does a hippogriff have a high alcohol tolerance?" she went on musingly. "I wouldn't know. But if I'm getting drunk, you definitely are, so resign yourself to the hangover, Foster." Zanna was quite frequently hungover at work; as she was in charge, it didn't matter all that much, and she forced herself to work through it anyway. Unless it was very bad, in which case she didn't bother going in to work at all, but would simply owl instructions.

"How dull." Zanna wrinkled her nose disparagingly, then smirked. "The anti-establishment press is wonderfully busy making boring people's lives worse, which is much more exciting." In fact, she targeted what she saw as incompetence and/or corruption, which overlapped with 'boring' but was not quite the same thing. Neither did it include every aspect of the Ministry, although when talking to someone who worked for them, she would claim that it did.

[Dominic Foster]

"Oh, right, of course," Dom said, rolling his eyes. He wasn't remotely fooled by Zanna's easygoing tone. If he'd been the one who'd turned up later, he knew that he'd have gotten an earful about how even the Ministry's standards hadn't taught him to be punctual or something of that sort. "No, they are," he said, "The cheetah print - that's... eye catching," Dom finished uncertainly. It wasn't that Dom didn't pay attention to clothes, he just definitely didn't know enough about shoes to continue a discussion about them.

"Well, they're so big," Dom said, "I expect they'd have a bit more of a stomach for alcohol than someone planning to be responsible and wake up without crying because their head feels like it's going to fall off." He didn't bother responding to her insistence that they'd both be drunk by the end of the night, hoping that would at least keep from egging her on.

"Making boring people's lives worse?" Dom repeated incredulously, "How dull." He mimicked her tone perfectly and then took another sip of his Butterbeer. "I saw that article on the Department of Games and Sports, by the way. It definitely made my day a little more boring," he added. The article's description of the ongoing gambling issues in the department had actually made him burst into laughter, but he had no intention of admitting that to Zanna.

[Suzanne Stanley]

"Of course," Zanna agreed, deadpan. She was entirely aware of her own hypocrisy and really didn't care; in fact, it amused her. "Leopard print, darling," she corrected him, with an exaggerated sigh, as if fashion terms (or animal pelts, for that matter) really mattered to her, which they did not, and she trusted that he knew her well enough to know that. On the other hand, accuracy did matter to her, and she would rarely pass up the chance to correct someone on a fact. "But I'm glad they caught your eye," she added, tilting her ankle so that he could take a better look if his eyes happened to go in that direction. "That's always my aim."

"Responsible," Zanna scoffed. "Please. If you think you're getting away with that, think again. I like making people cry," she added absently, as her drink arrived and she held it up to him. "You should know this about me by now. Cheers."

"Well." Zanna considered this. "Making important people's lives worse might be a better description, though they're often pretty boring as well - until we get hold of them. There's endless amusement in finding the ridiculous points about someone's life and pointing it out to everyone. And that might disappoint me if I believed you," she added with a grin. "But I know your sense of humour's better than that, you see. Plus, your days must be so boring that nothing could possibly make them even more so. I mean, even reading the Daily Prophet would be an added excitement, I'd imagine."