The Start of a Beautiful Co-Dependence

Jack watched as Poe went as far as to decide to demonstrate his meaning of his assertion. He picked his victim in the form of a man dressed in clashing colors of green- even fashion-blind Jack felt her eyes become offended by the mix of ugly color- and immediately jumped right into the mist of an insult. Jack snorted into her drink, having just picked it up to soothe her calming spirits, and lowered it with a feeling of what she could only describe as astonishment. Because, how many people did she know would go as far as to pick a bar fight to demonstrate his definition of one? Well, she knew it would not be something she would be adverse too. But the brashness Poe used as he burst into it… Well, Jack could not admit she was actually impressed.

Poe nimbly escaped the beating the man attempted to administer, furthering his claim that he had never lost in a bar fight. Jack knew the claim must be true, because Poe was already pretty heavily influenced by the alcohol, and yet the tasteless leprechaun never had a chance. There was no way he could have possibly landed a punch. Jack’s tipped her head as Poe shot her a triumphant grin and put her hands together in a polite golf clap. The man swung at Poe again and stumbled, drunken as he was too. He tripped backwards and fell against Jack’s table. Their drinks wobbled furiously and Jack stood, shoving the man away from the table and spinning him towards an empty chair, which he tripped into, looking bemused and confused.

Ignoring the man, Jack looked at Nemo and said, “Then I suppose I have been in a bar fight. Now, I may need to ask you to define losing. I have often been left off worse than I came in, but I always felt I had the upper hand. That could be because I can turn any situation I find myself into a winning one.” She smirked widely at him and looked at the man in green. “Unfortunately, you don’t have that luxury. My colleague is right- from birth you were marked deficient. And floored by a woman. Give up.” She raised her glass, sitting back down, and drank to the man in green for his bravery in still managing to look them in the eye.

"Ah!" Nemo clapped his hands together with enthusiasm in response to Jack's request that he define a 'lost' bar fight. "Losing takes a bit more effort than winning," He informed her in the manner of a professor instructing a pupil on the proper method of waving one's wand when casting a protection charm. "After all, for you and I to lose in a fight against drunkards would require... well, a lot more drunkards," Nemo added, ever the modest man.

Only as Nemo climbed atop the bar and extended his arms at his sides, thus drawing towards himself the attention of every man and women who occupied the pub that evening, did it become apparent that his previous statement had, in truth, been an introduction to what would inevitably follow his decision to provide Jack with a proper demonstration of a battle lost, and such an outcome's requirements. "Good eeeev-ning, fck ups!" Nemo called with a casual sway of his hips and the widening of his grin.

"We," Nemo made certain to include The Savior in his introduction to the Leaky's population by slinging his right leg out towards Jack and pointing towards her with the toe of his boot, before returning his foot to the bar's splintering surface. "- are Death Eaters. Have been for a while now, actually." It was fortunate for the sake of Nemo's mission that the beings to whom he was speaking were intoxicated, for under sober circumstances, such a claim would have been disregarded as tomfoolery at once. "And we're under strict orders to screw your faces up tonight. Your complete cooperation would be appreciated while we kill you all. Thannnnnk you!"

Nemo dropped from the bar, and was greeted immediately by the sight of the throng of both witches and wizards alike that had encircled them. Mere feet distanced he and Jack from the ravenous beasts before them. "Now," Nemo began once more, turning his head towards Jack to reveal the proud expression that adorned his face, "Let's get to losing, shall we?"

Jack could see where Poe was going with his little act, so with a flick of her wand she summoned up a small notepad and pen, pretended to adjust imaginary glasses, and began to scribble all over the pad. Her diligent notes actually came out to be two stick figures; one standing, smiling, and holding a bottle. The other was on the ground, x's for eyes, and tongue lolling out. She turned her head upward and blinked rapidly, imitating a pupil in awe of the knowledge being presented to them and then held up the notepad. "Like this, sir?" she asked eagerly.

She dropped the notepad, and with that, the subject of ten fingers dropped from her mind as well. She reached voluntarily from her glass and threw the glass back, drinking down the rest of the drink, spiking her strange merriment. Thoughts of others diminshed. Those who were mere ghosts to her now, even their ever looming presence began to slip from her, shadows leaving her to shine in the... flickering lights of the bar. Well. The metaphor was nice.

Poe stumbled onto the bar and made an announcement. Jack's face opened fully, now, unable to hide the admiration for the man's actions. The alcohol made her forget about the reputation she was supposed to uphold. If the Ministry did not approve of her befriending such people, then they were free to try to fire her. She knew they wouldn't- who else would work her hours?

He pointed her out and she raised her hand, turning it mechanically in what was supposed to be a mock-princess wave. She smiled widely, and then the smile slid right off her face. What was Poe playing at?! Of course, he had no idea that she was actually apart of the Order. But she was the head of a department. Such an allegation could potentially screw Jack over.

She stood, attmepting to make her way to Poe. She was suddenly buffeted by a crowd. She looked around. "Look, everyone. We're not Death Eaters. We work for the Ministry, catching them. He's just drunk." However, the issue here, was everyone else was drunk too. Some witch stepped forward and pushed Jack, calling her some really clever name. Insert eye roll here. Jack said, "Hey, I'm a muggleborn, why would I-" The witch pushed her again.

Jack paused. "I don't take sh!t twice." She flicked her wand and a stream of air pushed through the people before her, parting them like the Red Sea. She took advantage of their confusion and ran towards Poe, leaping onto the bar. "Um, we're about to die, so pray to the god of wine that it be swift."

“You’re a muggle-born?” Nemo inquired absentmindedly as Jack mounted her defense against the executioners present. “Huh,” he gave a thoughtful nod of his head, “I’d pegged you as a half-blood. You’ve got that…” as though holding his wand – or, more accurately, a pirate’s cutlass - Nemo twisted his hand momentarily through the air, “swishy-ness about you with your wand. I thought it was a witch-y thi-“ but he was interrupted before his sentence’s end by two particularly eager assailants.

In an instinctual response, Nemo swept a leg out in a circular motion across the other and rotated his hips, simultaneously reaching towards the notepad that lay abandoned on the floor in his right hand. With the coming of contact of his fingers with Jack’s illustration of the events to come, one of Nemo’s boots connected sharply with the ankle of one of the men who had begun to advance in his direction and the stumbling fist of the other swept over Nemo’s head, brushing several strands of his unruly hair as it missed him. But Nemo paid the pair no mind as he held the ink stained paper aloft and examined the image that had been scribbled there with an expression of approval.

“Ain’t you the artist?” was Nemo’s rhetorical question before he jumped upwards to join his legs together once more in the absence of the fist that had previously crept atop his skull, and abruptly he spun towards a wizard who had drawn his wand and begun in the utterance of an incantation. “Oh, hello there. I know someone who is just dying to meet you,” was Nemo’s exceptionally cocky introduction to his actions that would proceed the statement. In a fluent blend of rolling muscle, Nemo drew each of his fists towards his chest and began to rotation them mockingly around one another in a boxer’s fashion. “Say hello, boys,” Nemo instructed his crumbled hands, before thrusting each outward towards the offending wizard in quick succession.

But another practiced jump and effective spin introduced Nemo to his demise; an end in the form of an easily seven foot man, the equivalent of Nemo’s body twice in girth. “Woah!” Nemo exclaimed as his eyes widened impossibly further in their climb towards the monstrous being’s face. “You are huuuuge! How did you even fit in here?” A deep grumble shook the other’s chest and his thick brow furrowed. “Seriously,” Nemo foolishly continued, his genuine curiosity evident as he climbed atop his toes to meet the man’s eye level and cocked his head to one side, “Did they build this place around you, are what?”

In a comical storm of flailing limbs, Nemo was thrown several feet above the ground and he forcefully collided with the empty wine crates that lay below.

Jack smirked at his confusion and said, "So what? Now you're a bigot too? Are you suddenly going to reval you really ARE a Death Eater with a personal problem against muggleborns and now you have to take me down?" He mentioned something about her wandwork and Jack raised her eyebrows, a little surprised. She had never thought too long nor too hard about her own wandwork. She had just done the spells the best way she could.

"Did you ever consider it might be like that 'cause I'm awesome?" Jack spouted, shrugging as if that had always been the real reason. He responded to her drawing, but she was busy with a wizard who had grabbed onto her leg. Carefully she lifted the other leg, placed it gently on his forehead, and pushed with all her might. He flung backward and she grabbed at the rafter just above her head, having to stand on tiptoe to even barely touch it, to keep herself upright.

"Man, Poe, when you want to lose you sure are determined," Jack scoffed. She looked around, trying to spot him, as he was now thick in the fight and she still remained on the bar, fighting off those who were trying to yank her down. She spotted him sizing up one of the largest men she had ever seen and saw that the man was not getting as much of a kick out of being called so gigantic as Poe was to point the fact out. And suddenly, it became to much.

The man punched Poe and he flung backwards. Jack instinctively jumped upwards, her fingers grabbing the rafter. She swung her body and swung forward, flinging herself towards the large man, just like in he movies (and yes, she felt like a badass.) She swiped out and landed on the man's back, wrapping her arm around his neck tightly. He flailed to reach her and Jack looked behind her at the crowd. "I am not a Death Eater! Ah, screw it. I told the truth! Now it's defense!" she began throwing out minor hexes into the crowd with one hand while the other slowly lessened the man's air supply and his drive to fight. Suddenly he wobbled and she let go. He staggered and fell onto a table, completely winded but fine. "Poe! Some help would be spectacular!"

Get up, Nemo's persistent subconscious demanded as he fought the dizzying haze that had overcome him. No, his conscious mind countered within the confines of his steadily swaying head, I want to sleep. I won't be out long. Just a second. A second. Just a...

"Poe! Some help would be spectacular!"

Nemo's lolling head stiffened in a jerking motion as he was roused from his drowsy state. "OK. Just... hold your horses," he slurred through the thrumming of his bruised skull. He gave another firm shake of his head, and slowly he drew himself upward from the crates to which he had been so violently thrown. You're bleeding, he noted, and from his mouth he spat the crimson copper that had welled along his bottom lip. "How many we got left?" Nemo unsteadily asked Jack from across the pub. But he had but a brief moment's opportunity to right himself before a bolt of brilliant light zipped in his direction.

By the mercy of adrenaline, Nemo slid out of the spell's line of fire, examining its appearance as it passed him bye and collided noisily with the adjacent wall. "Hey! That's cheating!" Nemo wheeled on the spell caster, "That was an Unforgivable you just fired at me," he informed the witch behind the tip of his wagging index finger. "You know what we Death Eaters do to those who try to use Unforgivables against us, don'tcha?" he slowly inquired, as though convinced that his words would remain a mystery to the woman before him if they were not spoken at the pace of a primary school teacher. He allowed a pause to hang in the air between them before he drew his wand in an elegant flourish of fingers; the skill of a practitioner of Wand Juggling. He toss the weapon from his left hand to the other with a flip and offered the witch a charming smile, "We kill them!"

"You aren't gon kill me, Death Eater!" The woman spat her retort and gave a mighty wave of her wand - one which was left incomplete as a result of Nemo's own spell work. With a simple twitch of his stone-tipped twig, she fainted; petrified. Nemo spared a contented giggle as he beheld his handiwork. "We're playing it good ol' fashioned wizarding style now, folks!" He announced with a loose twirl on the spot in his most convincing southern drawl.

A wimpy looking, scrawny, half of a man stumbled forward and grappled with Jack, but she twisted and squirmed before managing to throw him off of her, sending him toppling over two witches who had been making a proposed charge towards Jack. She turned her head in the direction of the faint voice she recognized to be that of her drunken companion. She could barely distinguish his words but managed to grasp what he was getting at.

She laughed. “Um, half of Diagon Alley!” She ducked a curse, and when she straightened up once again, she said, “You got us in deep shit this time, Poe!” And it was true. She was beginning to think that they really were in trouble that might be a little too difficult to get out of. Jack did not run; but Jack did not let herself become defeated either. A punch clipped her on the top of the head and spun her into the ground. She ducked and followed the sound of Poe’s voice, dipping and dodging between flailing elbows and jostled bodies.

She heard Poe’s voice and grabbed out at him, gripping his jacket to pull herself out of the crowd and towards him. She pulled out her wand and began deflecting the spells rebounding towards them. She began sending out mild defensive spells, not wanting to harm anyone because she did prefer her standing in the Ministry to, y’know, unemployment and homelessness. She looked over at Poe and asked, “Ideas?”

He had been in the midst of neutralizing his newest opponent when he’d spied upon the delivery of a blow to a familiar mop of red hair. But too many infuriated citizens remained between himself and the man for whom Nemo now expressed a particular interest. Save the ‘giant’ whom Nemo had previously encountered, the lad seemed the only truly worthy opponent of the tag team that was McDonald and Poe. He may have been one to keep watch of.

“McDonald! Climb aboard the Omara express!” Nemo chimed in response to the sensation of being used as a crutch as Jack climbed to her feet along his side. He cast Jack a fleeting grin; he was positively aglow with joyous excitement, despite the long split that had been carved into his bottom lip as a result of the jabs that he had made at the ‘Elephant in the Room’, as Nemo had begun to inwardly referred to him by. The Elephant whom had evidently made a full recovery from the damage that Jack had unleashed upon him, if his steady glare and powerful stride towards their present location was anything to judge his status by.

“Incoming Elephant, three-o-clock!” Nemo informed Jack as he slid away from her for a moment, so to greet the other man ("Lady Hitter") who’s arrival to Nemo’s portion of the dueling arena that the Leaky had become, he had so patiently awaited. “Oh hey there, douche! I was wondering when you’d stop by,” Nemo addressed him, before awarding the fellow a snapped kick to his chest for the punch that he had thrown at Jack, which Nemo accented with an animated "Hwwaaaaa!".

“Ideas?” The alcoholic repeated as he knocked lightly into Jack’s shoulder with his own and proceeded to align their backs. “A few – Impedimenta! – OK, no, that’s not true; I have an idea.” Nemo turned his head, supporting his claim in a hushed tone against Jack’s ear, “How are you with explosions? On my mark – boom. Aim for mild. Or moderately painful, whatever works." He shrugged.

Using Poe as an anchor in the sea of drunkards, Jack managed to surface, trying not to visibly gasp for air after having been knocked around a bit. She was realizing how drunk their opponents seemed to be; perhaps, after this, she could buy a round of drinks for the crowd (billed to the Ministry, of course, since it was for her reputation) and drown out the memory of any 'misbehavior' with alcohol. However, there was always one who managed to remember. Always that one person unafraid of committing a party foul. There was always one.

Oh, boy. Jack was sure to hear about this on Monday.

Poe warned her about an elephant, and Jack (still influenced by the shots taken during their game of ten fingers) turned, fully expecting to see a charging African Bull elephant headed towards them. The man she saw instead, however, was close enough. Jack smirked and saw oe begin to head through the crowd towards the challenger. She quickly moved to follow before she would become separated again. If she died, she wanted someone there to collect her body.

Jack found herself reeling at the kick Poe threw, and then laughing at the sound effect. Someone hurtled towards her and she ducked, using her hands to push them over her, sending them flinding into the bar with a thud of splinters. "Ooh, and that's gotta hurt!" Jack announced in a nasally, announcer-type voice, adding to her own amusement.

Poe backed up against her and responded to her inquiry, beinging up the idea of explosions. She felt a grin unfurl as she fumbled for her knapsack. Jack had a special taste in explosions. "Yeah, I can do you one better in that sense really." She pulled out one of her special fireworks and and held her wand to the fuse. "This won't hurt more than it would entertain. It could be a wonderful diversion too. However, it's your call. Count it off."

((OOC: Thought... Wouldn't a thread where Jack and Nemo are being warned by Robert Lupin not to get in any more shenanigans be the most fun ever? Like kids waiting outside the principal's office...))

As though having predicted the plan that had begun to formulate between Nemo and Jack, the pub’s population drew nearer. Nemo observed as the likelihood of their successful escape dwindled, and pushed off of Jack’s back, forcing them both to rotate positions without separating so to retrieve from the bar his bottle of vodka. Which he promptly topped as he examined the fireworks that Jack had so unexpectedly presented.

“You keep fireworks in your pocket?” Nemo inquired with an incredulous flick of his eyebrows – before his expression melted into one of immense admiration. “Now that’s my kind of clown!” He cheered with a hearty laugh thrown towards the ceiling.

“Allllllright!” He announced, extending his wand before him. And in a flurry of a countdown, Nemo rattled off the only numbers that remained between a fair duel and an explosion, “Fivefourthreetwo fcking one!”