Long nights, strange men. [Steenie]

Business was booming. Tatum Atherton was working nonstop. Everybody seemed to be wanting owls. She really had no clue why. Maybe owls were needed than muggle emails. They were speaking about how technology was going to take over.... she really hope not. She would be out of a business. Today she was dropping off a lovely pair of barn owls to a local bar. They needed them for their deliveries. She was excited that she would be making a few gallon off of them. She did not need the money with how her business was doing, but if she had the extra money maybe she could hire some help so she could have a vacation. It was like she never had a day off. The birds were a constant need and attention. Always needed to be fed at a certain time, cleaned up after, and the sales. It was just so much for her alone. It was time to find a new person.

After dropping off the birds, she stayed at the local bar. She was glued to the game that was on their tele. She always had that habit. Whenever the game was on anywhere, quidditch... soccer... anything... she would become instantly glued to it. She loved sports. Her family was like that. She ordered a beer and stood at the bar watching the  the quidditch game.

Tatum did not pay attention of anything around her. She chugged her beers, after beers... yelling at the game on the tele. She was a loud woman, but did not care. Removing her leather jacket she hung it on the back of the chair. Someone made a goal on the team she was against and she yelled at the video. "BULL!" She finished off her beer, realizing she was probably being to loud to the people around her. There was a gentleman there, who looked around her age... she chuckled gently. "Sorry--- Too loud?" She smirked, ordering her third beer.

She hoped she did not make it to uncomfortable for that man.

"Get another!" The Scottish accent of Steenie Allen was loud as he slammed his cup on the bar in front of him, the little liquid that was left being pushed to the bottom. If it would have had anything else in it, it would have spilled over and gotten the bar wet. Steenie'd always thought that was a fun, stereotypical thing - slamming your beer mug on the table so the liquid would all fall out, but as it turned out, the barkeeps didn't really like that too much. Beer, apparently, was sticky when dry, and a bitch to clean up.

"I don't even know what that is," The nineteen year old pointed to the little magical box in the corner that'd somehow shrunk people into itself, so they were flying around at what looked like a Quidditch game. "But I like it." He'd concluded, turning to the friend on his side and raising his eyebrows before he'd waved the bartender down another time. At the rate he was going, Steaphan was set to get cut off soon, but he wasn't so worried about that. He was worried about the fact that the people in the screen were tiny - and they seemed to be going out of view every once in a while, too. Did that mean the box was real magic, too?

Steenie could have sworn that a few of the people in the screen looked familiar, however. The one almost looked like his good friend McItyre...

"I don't think it was too loud," Steenie shrugged at the woman who'd yelled, raising his eyebrow as he did so. "I think it was perfectly fine and - I want my beer now for Merlin's sake!" The Quidditch player had cut himself off in order to address the bartender, who'd seemingly gave someone their drink even though they'd ordered after him. Now that wasn't fair. "And the service here sucks." He turned back to the other girl, rolling his eyes. "If it wasn't for that thing there, I wouldn't be here," Steenie pointed to the TV, shrugging.