Why does every other sock have a match? (open)

Guest

Mackenzie Faucette's dark brown hair shone in the sunlight as she entered The Leaky Cauldron. A drastic shift from her usual hideout, the spot was buzzing with life. The twenty-something-year-old witch had been used to spending her days at The Rosa Lee Teabag, hiding in the corner and planning different news articles. But the monotony of that routine had finally gotten to her, as one could only spend so much time inside of their own mind before the space came to fit too tightly.

Earlier that day, Mackenzie had gone to the editor of The Daily Prophet with her latest pitch for an article. Her idea had been nothing new, perhaps a piece on flower growth or whether or not butterbeer was a healthy diet choice.

The elder woman had simply looked to Mackenzie, eyes blank and lacking excitement. Her head swayed back and forth in dismay, hinting at the words that she was about to speak.
"Mackenzie, I know that this can't be the only thing you think about," she said. "I hate to think that you've only worked here for a couple of years and your mind has already been cleared out of ideas. Give me something exciting! Something that I can use. Something romantic?"

ROMANTIC! The idea simply had Mackenzie wanting to disappear then and there. She hadn't had a date and months and even then, none of her first dates had ever turned into second ones.

"Romance," she whispered, now sitting at a table alone with some fruity drink that bore a complicated name she didn't care enough to remember.

Guest

Kieran found himself in the Leaky Cauldron, not really wanting to drink anything heavy just enjoy a good meal he didn't have to prepare and some tasty butterbeers. He had felt the need to be around others, even if he didn't engage anyone in conversation tonight. There was a comfort in simply being around people, which sounded kind of silly when he admitted it to himself but it was true. It was rather quiet in the part of the bar he was in, and he just made out the whisper of romance. His curiosity piqued, he turned behind him and saw a lovely brunette sitting alone with some drink that looked rather girly.

Deciding it wouldn't hurt to try for an interesting conversation, he grabbed his butterbeer and moved in her direction. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt if you're busy. But, did you mention romance by chance?" Kieran asked, the curiosity in his eyes giving away the fact that it was a subject he'd be more than happy to discuss. Hopefully, he had a budding one about to start with Victoria, though he wouldn't count his chickens before they hatched. It was a subject that had always intrigued him, even as a teen which had made him rather an oddity among the boys he knew.

Guest

Mackenzie's submergence into the dark hole that was self-pity found itself interrupted by the presence of someone whom she had never seen before. Correction: a man whom she had never seen before.

The man was not what she would classify as being hot, but he was good enough looking. Not that his looks particularly mattered, seeing as it was more than likely that either he was in a committed relationship or he was what she would classify as a man-slut.

In fact, Mackenzie could not fathom why this man had chosen to approach her. The only idea that she could come up with was that perhaps he assumed that she was someone else. He must've been meant to be meeting someone and that someone must've had similar features to those of this pale brunette.

When asked to clarify the words that she had only really meant for no-one to hear, Mackenzie responded, "Yes I did happen to mention romance. It appears that I have been given the task of writing an article on the subject, even though I have hardly encountered it myself. Bizarre, huh?"

She looked to the man, as if daring him to come up with some kind of "plenty of fish in the sea" response. She'd heard all of those lines enough times to know that that was not what she needed.

"Care to assist me in this endeavor?"

Guest

Kieran took a moment to think about the matter before replying. As he did he thought about what on earth she'd be writing for that would require her to talk about romance. "Maybe bizarre, maybe not. Okay, first question. What kind of writing do you do? Second question, how nosy is your boss? Maybe assigning you this article is like, his or her idea of matchmaking. Like, in their mind making you write about romance might give you the motivation to go on more dates or something, I don't know really just guessing here." he said with a shrug. Since he didn't know the woman her boss it was really just a shot in the dark.

Raising an eyebrow at the question of assisting, he chuckled slightly at this situation. Only he would stumble into some kind of writer asking for help with romance. "I suppose it depends on what kind of assistance you need, miss...umm, I don't know your name." he said, frowning a little upon realizing that. "Is it okay if I sit down?" he asked.

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