veneficusvenato: (Default)
Do your job, you love it, Lee had said,

and Sokka hadn't helped adding, Be good
and we'll make it worth your while even.




For them, Jo'd stood still while two of the costumers got to make her over in a way she rarely agreed. She told herself if was for Sokka and Leah, but it was for Gillespie, too. Who might have been a Gil, but could have been a Dick, John, Harry or Bartholemuel, too. That was the job, after all. Part of which was dressing up and dragging the newest trainee to a Ministry Function, because that, too, required training this high up.

Learning that this was all part of it, too.

Blending in, using your real name, but with the longest-lived lie you were handed.

Today, which involved watching two people curl her hair and apply her makeup with wands, and even a board that looked more like an artists pallet. Then a short white dress, with just enough give to hide her wand but nothing else, and an even smaller, more ornamental, looking shoulder jacket.

It would have been lovely if that was the worst the night could offer. Dresses, makeup, small talk, and Gillespie. But things never went that easy, really, did they. She couldn't just go home and bitch to her people about the mind numbing boringness and the funny tasting food. No, of course not. Instead the night went from that to explosions, sparks raining purple and black, from two dozen people dressed in black and purple, and running.

Shoving Gillespie, while shouting and and firing behind them. Creating a diversion. A spectacle. They weren't meant to be the people who did clean-up or cattle herding of the ministry wives and children. This wasn't exactly what they were for either, but they excelled in a pinch. Just like a handful of the other groups that had been in the milling dinner crowd.

The throbbing knuckles, and the disarray of her curls, as well as a rip along one side of her skirt, had happened before the running started, but they were lost in that. The way running did. Took every thought that wasn't attacks, hexes, and counter-spells. Stumbling through the doorway that should have led to a staircase, but didn't. She felt it sizzle through her skin, but all the three wizards were following right after, and as a burst of purple exploded toward them, Jo shoved Gillespie out of the path.

But it slammed straight into her, acid burning and needle stinging, sending her stumbling backwards, with a crack that she was sure was one of those damned heels they'd insisted on, which only helped it. She reached out to catch the reddish drape hanging behind her, but her fingers went straight through it, and her shoulders followed sending her into a tumble.....


...that did not have her slamming the ground less than a second later.
Or the one after that. Everything went black around, and she swore she would
have Gil's ass for breakfast, as well as the costumers, and her best friends.....



....before the light returned in a blinding assault and Jo collided solidly,
in an all too familiar feeling, with another body beneath her.


[ Jo's Timeline: 1 Year Before Order of the Jobberknoll
SPN Timeline: ??? ]
veneficusvenato: (All Behind The Scenes)
My Main ep piece for it:

Jo slept in, after being up forever. First trading shots with Bobby through the annoyed snorting at the professor who was afraid of cat scratches. Then with Sokka n' Lee. Because it's not everyday that someone chose to house an Order in their soul.

Taking her time as nothing would make the next four days to her leaving pass faster.

She'd been towel drying her hair from the world' longest, hottest shower, when she spotted Dean (or more aptly a recognizable hunch of shoulders in that cloak) standing outside the shop across High Street. Staring at the front of the pub.

Thinking about his vow, and the uncanny unwavering staring, Jo tossed her towel on a chair, ran her fingers through her hair and headed downstairs. Better than avoiding. Especially now. For better or worse. At least pretending her attention wasn't on the front windows and door, she went about wanding away the cleaned glasses and plates from the meeting.





Thread Topper

It was the better part of two minutes before the door bell jingled, hit and tinny, in the din of a larger crowd than last week. But she still heard it. Or felt it? she still knew. In the pause between will he or won't he, she knew he had. Could feel it in the center of herself. In her wand hand.

She made a cup of coffee prepare itself with another flick of her wand, as the last plate went into its place. Using the last flourish of the magic to send it serenely sailing through the air so it landed on the bar just before he got to it.
veneficusvenato: (Bedtimes)
Time: Back Then
Location: Dean's Flat
People: Jo, Sam (Maybe Dean)






The front door is open, because the late spring breeze is nice.

And Jo is laying on the couch, pulling a curl absently, while reading.
veneficusvenato: (The Broomsticks)
One of the great things about having a pub?
There aren't always whole lot of people in it in the morning.


Some people who are staying the inn are down, eating breakfast.
But the general buzz of this morning is the quiet of silence and privacy.


Which means that Jo can go about doing other things this morning.
Which at present is reading her mail over the main counter.

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