Bubbles (Quinn)

A wince crossed his features as he reached out and took the ice cream cone.  Transferring it quickly to his left hand, the man grabbed his cane with the right.  Leaning heavily and breathing a little harder than he would have liked he moved away from the counter having already payed.  

His blonde hair was longer now than normal, in dire need of a trim.  A little more scruffy than he liked as well, but until he landed a job opportunity he saw little reason to really do more.  He was still comfortable.....well for another month or two if his math was right.

With the cane the task of maneuvering the tables, chairs, and midgets (aka children) was harder than dodging an angry half veela after dinner and no owl the next day.  Still he was doing his best with only minor bumps.  His right side continued to throb, a place that by all accounts should have been healed by now.  Alas, he was told patience and keeping his mind off of it was the best medicine, a bunch of crock from healers who didn't know a needle from a niffler.

"Excuse me, pardon me". He would say multiple times, his mid west American accent standing out in the crowd.  Though what made him stand out even more was his lack of robes.  Instead dressed in khaki pants, a white button up shirt, with a black tie.  Call it habit, but wearing those dresses just wouldn't do until he had to.

Spying a table off to his right with a bright orange umbrella he made his way towards it.  Only one pint sized human near it, so by his estimation should be quite enough.  Just as he was about to get to it, an unlucky chair was pushed out and caught the bottom tip of his cane.  The fall was stupendous, in terms of sheer velocity one would have a harder time demonstrating being vertical to horizontal in such a smooth motion.  

A groan escaped his lips as his eyes winced feeling the pain in his side explode three fold.  Squinting, all he could see was the simple vanilla ice cream began to melt on the cobblestone, making a little river that was destined to be made of sorrow rather than sugary happiness.  Laying there while a couple people looked over, he contemplated if it was worth it to get up, or just commiserate a little longer.

Watching his hopes and dreams run down the drain, aka the ice cream, Quinn felt that his time to self loath on the cobblestone was coming to a close.  As he was giving himself a mental talking to to stand up, a high pitched voice accosted his ears.  Glancing up he saw one of those half humans asking if he needed help up.  

It wasn't that he didn't like children, they were necessary and all.  However before the age of around 10 they were typically just a little much for him.  That being said, he wasn't rude.  It should also be mentioned here as a cautionary tale, he knows nothing of children.

"Sure.....". He would say reaching his good hand up.  Maneuvering to er his knees underneath and his forehead on the ground to hide his grimace he started to pull up.  However, not taking into account the child like strength.....he'd pull them both to the ground.  The resulting light in shot of pain caused a short string of curses, involving where the ice cream could have gone in another life.

The second attempt was more fruitful, though he didn't use the child this time.  Standing he would plop into one of the nearby chairs, rubbing his side, breathing heavily.  "That's......ok....I...can get......another one."  He would say speaking to her like she was an adult, mostly because he didn't know how to speak to a child.

"What if I give you the money, and you go get us both something while I sit here?  You can order solo right?"  He would ask her, pulling out his wallet.  He'd hand the little girl a wad of money, some muggle both of American and British origin, and some wizarding.  His head was swimming and he couldn't be bothered to count it.  Around 55 dollars muggle and 10 galleons wizard in total.  "Just.....get me anything."  He would rest his head back against the back of his chair, starring at the sky for a moment.

His breaths were starting to come in line now.  His eyes opening and taking in the sky.  If he say still and could be lost in the moment a bit longer perhaps the pain would truly settle.........nope.  His eyes winced as that high pitched voice returned quicker than expected.

Looking down he wild see the little woman.....girl....kid?  Sitting across from him with two distinct types of treats.  "Ummm sure.......". He would say taking the pink one.  Looking at it he hoped it was strawberry and not cherry, he absolutely couldn't stand cherry, and this day could start to turn around anytime now.  He could vaguely hear her start to question him as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the paper, spreading it out.  Using the treat he'd hold down one corner to prevent the wind from blowing it to much.

"My names Quinn, I'm almost old enough to think that's cute."  He would say a little plainly.  Making a dry joke, not anticipating that she may or may not be offended or even understand it's a joke.  "Actually I am a little lost.  My mom and dad though are back in the US."  He would say scanning the paper and flipping to the job postings.

He was comfortable, for now.  Though that time would come to a close.  He just needed something to keep him going and allow him time to heal, and eventually return to training.  Taking the spoon he got some on it, letting it twirl between his finger tips.  Despite this motion not spilling a drop.  Several jobs......none of them something he would want though.

"Ayy where's the change?"  He would ask her as he took a bite.  The look on his face instantly showing he was repulsed by the flavor.

"Not that kind of lost..". He'd say absent handedly without looking at her.  He pushed the ice cream over to her with a small grunt and would let her just have both of them.  When she mentioned her Clara whoever that is he merely nodded with an obligatory "mhm mhm mhm". Mostly he was happy letting her gibber jabber away while he read.

There just wasn't anything jumping out at him for something he could do.  His hand absentmindedly rubbed at his injury.  When she mentioned the absence of any change he felt his jaw drop.  Perhaps he was going to need to find that job even faster.  She continued on like this was no big deal and he considered how best to handle the situation.  Did you yell at kids?  Did you spank them?  Did you just say you were disappointed......honestly the whole scenario was just a little ridiculous.

"Listen Mimo was it?  What if you go back to the counter, get me a drink and get the money back from the tin mmk.....tell the lady it was a mistake.  If you can do that, I'll......illl..........buy you a stuffed animal...or something."  He would say looking at the tending ice cream guardian.  She didn't look fast surely the little girl could pull off the heist to get back his rent.  "If you can do all that, well I'll even.......umm be your friend I don't know."  This whole day was so weird.  Crumpling the paper he would give it a toss and watch it fall into the nearest waste bin.

Pushing the water bottle back to her he simply said, "no thanks, I don't drink water."  The bottle didn't have anything to do with it, mostly the fact that he hated water.

When she offered him the card he looked around, starting to wonder if this was a set up.  Was the law watching him and seeing what he was doing, or was this little girl not very smart.  He wasn't sure, and he wasn't willing to take the risk, even though this meant he'd be out of a home a month quicker than expected.  "Umm no you can keep that."  He would say considering if he could go get his money back from the till.

Her odd pronouncement  of his name brought him back to the conversation at hand.  "Well for starters it would be Qui not Quee." Very clearly emphasizing the difference.  "And secondly, I'd have given you points for thinking on your feet Mimo."  He would say looking around at the hustle and bustle of the street.  Sighing he would drop his head to bang on the table.  "You wouldn't know of any decent job openings around would you?"

It would normally be odd to sit at a table with a 9 year old and speak to her like an adult.  However, he was to tired, to sore, and a touch to forlorn to really consider it at the moment.