Toxic (Delia)

Bored. Saturday afternoon, less than a month into the school year, and he was already bored. Nobody at the University was fun. For an hour, maybe, or an evening. But certainly not the kind of fun that would last him three more years. It was a shame, really, he'd had such high hopes for that place.

He wasn't dropping out. His classes were actually not bad at all, and he was set on getting his degree. But in the meantime...well, he had to find an outlet.

So here he was, back in Hogsmeade, not sure exactly what he might be looking for. Maybe he'd meet that Janet girl again, she'd said she lived nearby. Not that she was particularly interesting either--pleasant, sure, but typical. And normal people could only entertain him for so long. Normal people always expected others to be normal as well, and they were so easily scared off. That limited his actions considerably. His experiences with normal people were all basically the same, and they were starting to get tedious. He needed something new.

Honestly, he didn't expect to find it here, but he had no better options. He hadn't been to this particular pub yet--he found he rather liked the atmosphere. He sat in the back corner, sipping a glass of...well, something. It was a rather unnatural shade of dark red, and tasted vaguely of nutmeg. Not the worst drink he'd ever had, though he probably wouldn't order it again. He sat sideways in a casual slouch, with his back up against the wall, and his left leg propped up on another chair.

He didn't know who he was today. He figured he'd find out if he met someone. But God, he really wasn't in the mood for normal people right now. He slouched a little lower and preoccupied himself with his drink, glaring slightly over the rim of his cup. Any of those insufferably cheerful strangers would hopefully be turned off by the dark and brooding look, helpfully reflected by his choice of dress--a mismatch of darker colored articles he'd found in a thrift store in London, which made him look slightly punk, slightly homeless, and mostly unapproachable.

The dingy lighting of the pub kept him mostly in shadow as he quietly observed the other patrons, watching as the door occasionally opened to let in someone new.

Kenny had watched the door as it swung open. He'd observed the girl as she stood in the doorway for a moment, searching for something. And then she'd looked straight at him and strode forward with a purpose. As she approached, he quickly swung his leg off the chair beside him, surprise registering for a split second on his features as she slid into the newly emptied seat and snatched the glass from his fingers.

He stared at her for a moment. Blinked once. What was she looking for?

Never mind that. His eyes travelled over her slowly as she pronounced her distaste for his drink, and he realized that she might be exactly what he was looking for. Maybe he should go for dark and brooding more often.

She was pretty. Young, though he couldn't tell her exact age, and to be honest, he didn't really care, as long as she wasn't trying to get him in trouble. Pushy, he thought, as she insisted on buying him a drink. And most importantly, she was definitely not normal.

He broke into a dangerous grin and leaned his head back against the wall.

"Nicer? What do you have in mind?"

Kenny raised an eyebrow at the girl's proposal. Tequila? Is she suggesting...? Hm... He hadn't done body shots since Ilvermorny. The seventh years had thrown a wild and slightly illegal graduation party on the last day of school. As far as he remembered, he'd been quite good at it, but his memory of the night was rather fuzzy.

The situation was unexpected, to say the least. He'd met the girl thirty seconds ago, and without introducing herself, she was already requesting body shots in the middle of the afternoon. It wasn't how he'd imagined his day going, but what the hell. He was bored, and this was certainly much better than sulking in the corner by himself.

Still, however fun it may be in theory, the logistics of the matter were a little complicated. First off, where would they get tequila if they didn't have it here? And then where would they go? Perhaps they could rent a room upstairs, but Kenny was a little short on money, and he had no idea what resources she had. Well, he decided, it was her idea. If that's what she wanted, she could figure it out for herself.

He made no movement to express feelings either way about her offer, simply tilting his head to the side and gazing at her with vague interest under half-lidded eyes.

"If you're suggesting we go somewhere, by all means, lead the way."

He reached over suddenly and reclaimed his drink from the girl's hands. "And if this is shit," he said, leaning back against the wall again, "Don't drink it." He tilted it back and downed the last sip, setting the empty glass on the table with a thud.

[[OOC: Sorry if it's messy/short. I had like 15 mins to write it xD]]

Delia kept the smirk on her lips, lightly touching it so it wasn't outright obvious, but definitely there if someone were to look for it. There wasn't much she could have done, anyway, not in public like that. She was only sixteen, after all, although she could -- and often did -- act older. Life was only fun if you took risks, and at sixteen there weren't many she could take. But if she acted older, pretended to be say, eighteen and legal? Then the fun could really begin.

The tequila, Delia knew, was not difficult to get. In fact, she already had a bottle in her bag -- charmed, naturally. If she were older she would've summoned it, but performing magic wasn't exactly something she was able to do just yet, and it was a dead giveaway if the autorities swooped in on her in the middle of sex.

Laughter bubbled up in her. "I'm new in town," she said, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. This, at least, wasn't a lie. "I don't know the spots. Besides," she paused, eyeing him properly this time, "You're the man. You lead. I'll... follow. Do..." She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, bringing her eyes up to his, "...anything you want." And she meant it. Quite honestly, Delia had very few limits, and any that she did have? Well, she liked testing them as much as she could. What were limits, after all, if not for toying with?

She let him reclaim the drink, watching him finish it. "Ever heard of pre-drinks?" she asked, tone obviously light and teasing. "They're meant to be shit. The real fun starts after you're already halfway to piss drunk."

New in town, huh? Well, it looked like he'd have to do some thinking after all. He'd only been here a few times, but he knew enough about the lore of the place to understand what was what. And apparently as the man, he was supposed to lead.

"That's rather misogynistic," he muttered, glancing out the window toward the street, considering his options. "But, if that's how you want to play...I know the perfect spot."

With a wicked smirk, he appraised her one last time, a slightly menacing gleam in his eye as he decided where they should go--and decided to test if she really meant what she said.

He hadn't been with a girl since he'd moved to London. He'd had several flings with men here and there, sure, but the last woman he'd slept with...if he remembered correctly, it was about a year and half ago, back in Pennsylvania.

He conceded her point about pre-drinks, half shrugging before standing up. He dug some coins out of his pocket  and left them on the table before grabbing her wrist and leading her out the door.

Kenny's lips twitched with an amused hum as her suggestions grew increasingly lewd. "A lady indeed."

At her comments, he said nothing, simply smirked and continued walking out the door. He'd visited their destination once before, though he'd only viewed it from afar. He was fairly certain he remembered the way though, as it was separated from the rest of the village. They walked for some distance down the street, away from the bulk of the shops, until eventually they were clear of the main road altogether. Turning left, he caught sight of the old, decrepit house that lay a safe distance beyond a wooden fence, and ambled toward it, the girl in tow.

The Shrieking Shack. The locals claimed that it was haunted by some sort of vengeful spirit. He had no idea if there was any truth to that rumor. If there was, it would add to the fun. If not, it didn't matter, the effect was the same: everyone else kept far away. If they were looking for privacy, it was the ideal location.

Stopping behind the fence, he gazed out at the house, searching for an opening. He couldn't see any from where he stood--it seemed all the windows and doors had been boarded up. No matter. There were a few perks that came with being an adult wizard.

He turned to the girl behind him. "It's called the Shrieking Shack," he supplied. "Supposedly, it's haunted. I hope you don't mind a little trespassing," he smirked. Before she could protest (or simply comment--she didn't seem like the type to really care), he took her other hand, as well as the one he was still holding, and pulled her close, stepping and turning as he did so.

With a snap, they apparated to a point just outside one of the blocked doorways. Unfortunately, he couldn't apparate directly inside, as he didn't know what the inside looked like. He could, however, pull a few tricks from his sleeve--namely his wand. Letting go of the girl, he approached the thick wooden plank across the door, and tapped it with his wand, muttering an incantation. The solid material transformed into fabric, and he pushed it aside with ease, gesturing for her to enter.