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Aug. 12th, 2005 12:11 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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neutral_omensDate: August 11th, 1999
Setting: Tadfield Manor, lobby
Status: Public
Summary: Amnesiac Harry seeks employment
The young wizard stepped apprehensively into the lobby. He couldn’t actually remember that he was a wizard, of course, or that The Daily Prophet had dubbed him ‘The Chosen One’; in fact, had you told him that such a newspaper existed he would have probably looked at you in a very strange manner indeed. All he really knew about his life before the accident was that his initials were HP, that he possessed a finely crafted eleven inch stick made from holly and that he’d somehow acquired a lightning shaped tattoo on his forehead. It wasn’t much to go on, but Hugo Perkins - as he’d been dubbed by the staff at the hospital - was optimistic that one day everything would click back into place.
In the meantime he needed a job. Any job would do. Well, within reason anyway, he really didn’t think that he wanted a job at the Trojan Warrior Escort Agency, like that Mr. Huge Perky whose mail he kept receiving by accident. He’d seen the ad for the vacancies at Tadfield Manor in one of the local papers at Patel’s Newsagents. It had seemed like a good idea to have a go at applying; though he hadn’t expected the place to look quite this daunting.
Taking a deep breath he walked over to the desk and hit the bell.
“Hello,” he called, when no answer was forthcoming. “Is there anybody here?”
In his left hand he held a cream sheet of paper emblazoned with the words Tadfield Manor: Staff Application Form, which had been written upon in what was desperately trying to be neat handwriting.
Name: Hugo Perkins (well I don’t know if this is actually my real name, I’ve got amnesia you see and nobody’s managed to find out who I am)
Age: They said I’m probably aged about seventeen or eighteen.
Type of being: Human (I think).
Job desired: waiter, glass collector, cleaning assistant or something of that nature.
Previous work and/or relevant experience: Well I’m not really sure how much experience I’ve had, what with not having a memory any further back than five months ago. Though I do usually wash the cups and tidy up after our support group meetings and once helped out for the afternoon at Mr. Patel’s newsagents in Upper Tadfield. Plus I’m willing to work really hard.
Work availability (please indicate preferred days and hours): Well, I can work at any time apart from Tuesday evenings (support group) and daytime on Saturday (medical checkups).
Please list your references here:
Mr. R. Patel,
Patel’s Newsagents,
Barking Road,
Upper Tadfield.
Dr. D.T. Birkett,
Head Injuries Support Group Co-ordinator,
Upper Tadfield General Hospital (But only on Tuesdays)
Setting: Tadfield Manor, lobby
Status: Public
Summary: Amnesiac Harry seeks employment
The young wizard stepped apprehensively into the lobby. He couldn’t actually remember that he was a wizard, of course, or that The Daily Prophet had dubbed him ‘The Chosen One’; in fact, had you told him that such a newspaper existed he would have probably looked at you in a very strange manner indeed. All he really knew about his life before the accident was that his initials were HP, that he possessed a finely crafted eleven inch stick made from holly and that he’d somehow acquired a lightning shaped tattoo on his forehead. It wasn’t much to go on, but Hugo Perkins - as he’d been dubbed by the staff at the hospital - was optimistic that one day everything would click back into place.
In the meantime he needed a job. Any job would do. Well, within reason anyway, he really didn’t think that he wanted a job at the Trojan Warrior Escort Agency, like that Mr. Huge Perky whose mail he kept receiving by accident. He’d seen the ad for the vacancies at Tadfield Manor in one of the local papers at Patel’s Newsagents. It had seemed like a good idea to have a go at applying; though he hadn’t expected the place to look quite this daunting.
Taking a deep breath he walked over to the desk and hit the bell.
“Hello,” he called, when no answer was forthcoming. “Is there anybody here?”
In his left hand he held a cream sheet of paper emblazoned with the words Tadfield Manor: Staff Application Form, which had been written upon in what was desperately trying to be neat handwriting.
Name: Hugo Perkins (well I don’t know if this is actually my real name, I’ve got amnesia you see and nobody’s managed to find out who I am)
Age: They said I’m probably aged about seventeen or eighteen.
Type of being: Human (I think).
Job desired: waiter, glass collector, cleaning assistant or something of that nature.
Previous work and/or relevant experience: Well I’m not really sure how much experience I’ve had, what with not having a memory any further back than five months ago. Though I do usually wash the cups and tidy up after our support group meetings and once helped out for the afternoon at Mr. Patel’s newsagents in Upper Tadfield. Plus I’m willing to work really hard.
Work availability (please indicate preferred days and hours): Well, I can work at any time apart from Tuesday evenings (support group) and daytime on Saturday (medical checkups).
Please list your references here:
Mr. R. Patel,
Patel’s Newsagents,
Barking Road,
Upper Tadfield.
Dr. D.T. Birkett,
Head Injuries Support Group Co-ordinator,
Upper Tadfield General Hospital (But only on Tuesdays)
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Date: 2005-08-14 03:50 am (UTC)Bartholomew leaned in, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, and then took the side exit. Sister Mary stopped to watch him go, giggled just a bit, and then descended the stairs to see about the young man.
He was holding an application form and looking around the Lobby with a vacant expression.
"Hello," she said, giving him a big smile. She peered closely at his face, taking in the bizarre scar on his forehead as well as his striking green eyes. This one may not have been angel or demon stock, but he was still quite a looker. A bit young for Sister Mary's tastes... but... well, she put that thought right out of her head.
"I see you're here about a job," she said, as she looked over his application.
"Well, assuming you can start immediately, I can use you in the restaurant. I've only one server, Belial. I think you'll like him. Also, you can run drinks for the bartender, Raphael. You'll probably like him, too. And I'm sure they'll both like you..." Sister Mary once cut off her imagination.
"If you've got any experience cooking, I could probably use you in the kitchen, helping out our new Chef, Severus Snape. I've already got one person there with him... but if it gets busy, he might need some more helpers..."
Sister Mary waited, watching Hugo thoughtfully. There was really something so familiar about him....
She rather hoped he'd take the job.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-14 03:27 pm (UTC)For a few moments he looked rather lost and dejected.
"Anyway," he said, pulling himself together, "I'm sure you don't want to stand around listening to me moan all day. I'd love to take the job. I've not had much cooking experience, well except for the time that I made caramel shorbread for my support group once, but I'd be glad to help out in any way that I could."
Seemingly released from his melancholia for the time being, he smiled in a manner that could only be described as amiable naivety. "Do you really think that the other staff are going to like me? Are Raphael and Belial artists by any chance? They've sound like really unusual names."
A thought struck him.
"I think that in my life before the accident I was involved in the ceramics industry in some capacity. I got this threatening letter saying Die Potter, Die, you see. So maybe if you even needed anybody to do some pottery for some reason, I could do that too. Who knows, it might even help jog my memory." His voice implied a keeness and desire to be helpful that would have embarrassed even the most die hard team player.