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+------ Thread: Smiles like a snake || Thatcher (/showthread.php?tid=1173)
Smiles like a snake || Thatcher - Lavinia Blackwood - 07-26-2026
Friday, 8 June 1923
Late afternoon
Late afternoon
Lavinia smiled at the gentleman who had just tipped her for the drink she made, dropping the coins he’d handed her into the tip jar. She rarely kept the tips she got. She didn’t need them.
Her blue eyes found one of the tables in the far corner, two men were talking loud enough for her to hear their voices, but not loud enough for her to hear their words. Their drinks were still full, which meant they were here for business first. She’d learned to read a table in under thirty seconds; who was celebrating, who was negotiating, who was going to be a problem. It was the most useful thing this job had given her.
She sometimes played a game with herself, trying to figure out who the schmoozer was and who the target was. Sometimes it was obvious. Other times not. But it was entertaining, nonetheless.
The door opened. She didn’t look up immediately. Lavinia never did. She finished wiping down the glass in her hand first, then let her eyes move across the room the way they always did, easy and unhurried, the way her brother Gideon had once told her made her look like she owned the place.
Good, she said at the time. I basically do.
That response from her had elicited a chuckle and a kiss on the forehead.
The man who had just come in made his way to another table, by himself, waiting for someone to join him. Her eyes moved to the table with the loud men, her eyes staying on them a bit longer this time. One put his hat on and shoved a coin pouch back to the other. He shook his head.
Lavinia focused on them, hearing the word broom followed shortly by untrustworthy and business. She raised her brow as the man with the hat abruptly stood and exited the pub in a hurry. He’d been the target.
Her eyes fell on the man sitting at the table, now downing his liquor. Without really thinking about it, Vinnie picked up the expensive bottle of bourbon she had poured his first drink from, and made her way around the bar to the table.
The second she got there, he set the now empty glass down. “Thought so,” she commented, smiling as she filled his glass.
RE: Smiles like a snake || Thatcher - Thatcher Ravenstone - 08-03-2026
The crystal tumbler hit the table harder than intended, amber liquid sloshing over the rim. "I paid for a championship."
Thatcher watched as the man across from him turned more red by the second. "You paid for an advantage." His fingers straightened one corner of the contract that lay between them. "There is a difference."
Hammich leaned across the table. "My Seeker missed three bloody catches. He should have been faster."
A sigh. "A pity."
"My Chasers couldn't keep up." The man seethed.
"A greater pity." He was losing his patience.
"My Beaters..."
Thatcher finally looked up. "...were evidently not worth what you're paying them."
The older wizard's face reddened. "You sold me defective brooms."
His answer came immediately. "No. I sold you the finest racing brooms available." Thatcher corrected him calmly. "Modified within the agreed changes." He reached for his drink.
"The opposing team simply played better." Hammich stared, vibrating with rage. "You've got some nerve."
Thatcher smiled as he took another long pull from the crystal tumbler. "So I've been told."
"You'll refund me. You guaranteed results." Hammich, slamming his hand on the dark wood table. Eyes turned, they were gaining attention neither men wanted.
"No. I guaranteed discretion." He said, taking his voice down a notch. Another sip. "And discretion, Mr. Hammich, is something we both require. You wouldn’t want it to get out that your players had help and still lost magnificently. What would your board of directors say?"
Silence settled between them. Hammich snatched the contract off the table. "You've lost a customer." Thatcher shrugged, not bothered by the mans words. "You've lost a season." The chair scraped violently across the floor. Without another word, Hammich shoved his hat onto his head and stormed toward the exit. Thatcher didn't watch him leave, he simply finished his whisky.
Immediately it was full again. Thatcher glanced up, surprised by the woman standing beside his table. He had seen her before. Often in fact. Confident. Comfortable walking through a room full of men who turned and looked as she passed.
"Thought so." She topped off his glass before he had a chance to ask.
He let his eyes study her for a second longer than was polite. "Efficient." His fingers wrapped around the fresh glass, lifting it to his lips. His eyes slowly took in her slender figure, like a caress. "I appreciate efficiency." Taking a slow drink, Thatcher leaned back in his chair.
"You run this place? You carry yourself as though you do." A smile appeared. One that worked in boardrooms, but hadn’t been used on a woman in quite sometime.
"I find confidence refreshing. You should sit down. I've suddenly found myself without company." An invitation that he fully expected to be accepted.
RE: Smiles like a snake || Thatcher - Lavinia Blackwood - 08-04-2026
“Efficient. I appreciate efficiency.”
Lavinia could feel the man’s smarmy eyes wander over her, likely imagining her in some form of undress. She should have seen it coming, honestly, because she knew men like him. They were all the same. None were original at all, even though they liked to act as if they were a gift to women everywhere.
He was no different.
"You run this place? You carry yourself as though you do."
That smile sent a bad chill down Vin's spine. She'd seen it before, on a hundred different faces. The kind of smile that had never once been told no and didn't expect to start now. She wanted to retreat, but she had thicker skin than that.
"I find confidence refreshing. You should sit down. I've suddenly found myself without company."
“I do run it, actually,” Lavinia responded. She capped the bottle and put the bottom against her hip, shifting her weight a bit.
The best way to avoid a scene was to play along. But even she had a limit.
“And whatever you’re thinking, I’d put it back where you found it.” Lavinia raised her brow slightly, glancing at her brother Gideon who had just come from the back and was serving a customer at the bar. “I’m working, and it’s busy.”
RE: Smiles like a snake || Thatcher - Thatcher Ravenstone - 08-06-2026
“I’m working, and it’s busy.”
A chuckle escaped him as he rolled the crystal tumbler between his fingers. "There's always work."
As if that explained everything. His eyes followed hers toward the man behind the bar. Business partner? Husband? Barkeep? He didn't know and wasn’t interested in finding out.
"Five minutes won't bankrupt the ‘stablishment. I'd hardly ask for more than that." The bar was a bit blurry, he blinked to focus his eyes, his words beginning to slur. He took another drink before gesturing toward the empty chair. "Sit."
The words came out clipped. Not a request. An expectation.
"You've already displayed good judgment by bringing me another drink before I asked." He lifted the glass in a lazy salute. "Continue the trend."
A smile spread across his face.
Slimy.
His gaze lingered again, entirely unashamed. "You know, confidence like yours is uncommon. So is beauty like yours." He paused as though he'd delivered something profound.
Another sip. "I imagine you hear compliments all day, though probably not from men worth listening to." He leered at her from behind his glass. The liquid was getting dangerously low. The corner of his mouth curled upward, convinced he'd set himself apart from every other man she'd brushed off that afternoon.
He hadn't.
"You know, this is the third time you've filled my glass before it was empty. Either you're very good at your job." He tapped the side of the tumbler. His eyes met hers again. "...or you simply enjoy taking care of me."
Another smile. Pure slimeball. The sad part was, he genuinely believed that last line was clever.
RE: Smiles like a snake || Thatcher - Lavinia Blackwood - 08-08-2026
“Sit.”
The word hung there, ignored by Lavinia. She would not be sitting. The slurring in his words, the look on his face, and his overall sliminess prevented her from entertaining any sort of ideas the man might have about her.
She let the rest of his words hang there as well, wondering if he would be proud of himself in the morning if he had the opportunity to hear any of this when he was not intoxicated. Well, he would definitely not be proud but she doubted a man like him would ever admit fault. What would he say? She had no clue.
"You know, this is the third time you've filled my glass before it was empty. Either you're very good at your job. ...or you simply enjoy taking care of me."
“Taking care of you… is that what I have been doing?” she asked, though didn’t want an answer to the question. Her eyes looked at the hand holding the tumbler, his left one, a gold band catching the light.
“I think your wife takes care of you.” What kind of woman would want a slimy bastard like him, well… she honestly had no clue. It was times like this she was thankful to be single.
Lavinia lifted the bottle, swirling it a bit to play with the liquid inside. “I just pour the drinks,” she smiled down at him, the kind that didn’t mean anything at all, the kind that all the clientele in Blackwood & Sons got from her.
“And I am done pouring yours,” she added when she rested the bottle on her hip again.
Seeing movement, Vin looked towards the bar again to see her brother Gideon watching the scene. She shook her head very slightly, signaling that she had it handled.
RE: Smiles like a snake || Thatcher - Thatcher Ravenstone - 08-10-2026
For just a second, Thatcher watched her. The smile, the shine in her eye, the easy dismissal. The pretty waitress had the bottle tucked against her hip, not coming any closer to pouring him another glass.
Well that wouldn’t do. He wanted company. He wanted her. And he damn well wanted another drink, but she had rejected him.
How... unusual. He wasn’t used to such behaviour from those below him.
A small laugh escaped through his nose as he slowly rose from his seat. The room shifted slightly beneath him, his hand found the edge of the table to steady himself.
"Done?" he echoed, amused more than offended. "I'm afraid that's not your decision to make." Standing at his full height, Thatcher towered over the barmaid. Even in his inebriated state, he managed to be intimidating.
His eyes drifted briefly to the bottle. "One more. And make it a double." His words came out strong, proving that he meant what he said.
Not a request. An expectation that she was to follow without question. When Lavinia turned to leave, Thatcher reached out without thinking. His fingers closed firmly around her wrist, not hard enough to bruise, but strong enough to where she wouldn’t easily break the hold.
"Now, that's hardly polite. I was enjoying the conversation."
The smile returned. Smooth, practiced, unsettling. The path of his eyes moved everywhere on her body besides her eyes. "Surely you can spare another minute."
RE: Smiles like a snake || Thatcher - Gideon Blackwood - 08-10-2026
Technically speaking, Gideon wasn’t required to work at Blackwood & Son’s during the summer months. His full time job changing to the Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts, he became a partner in the family business, but on days like this Gideon liked jumping behind the bar.
Fiona was at his parents house, being spoiled with toys, sweets and undivided attention. Rose was at home, sleeping. God, he hoped she was sleeping. The end of her pregnancy was becoming unbearable. Sleepless nights, pack pain, false contractions, hormone swings and the fact that his simple presence in a room made her mad, Gideon volunteered for a shift just to get out of the house.
Filling drinks, drying glasses, holding five different conversations at the same time, stepping back into the job was easier than breathing. Muscle memory coming back almost immediately.
While pulling a pint, Gideon’s eyes were on a swivel watching the patrons for trouble. Nothing immediately caught his eye, until Vin walked over to fill the drink of a man in the back corner. Vin’s posture changed, the bottle going to her hip, a sure fire sign that no more drinks would be provided. She stayed, talking to the man, longer than Gideon liked.
The moment fingers wrapped around Lavinia's wrist, Gideon was already moving. The customer he'd been serving at the bar no longer existed. Neither did the conversation they’d been having about property in Leeds. He only had eyes for the drunken man laying hands on his sister.
He crossed the room in long, purposeful strides. No hesitation. The kind of confidence that came from knowing exactly what he intended to do. Coming up behind Vin, his voice came out strong, with no room for debate. "Take your hand off her. Now."
His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. By the time the words reached the patron’s ears, Gideon was already standing beside Lavinia. He positioned himself so that his shoulder was slightly in front of hers, putting her behind him as much as possible in the current situation. His hand immediately grabbed the man's wrist, squeezing harder than what would be considered polite.
Gideon’s gaze rose to look at the man unobstructed for the first time. Recognition. Thatcher Ravenstone, the father of Alice and Everleigh. Two… well, one of his students, the other removed from the school after the tower incident.
He had a reputation in the business and society world. And it wasn’t favorable in most cases. "I'll ask you once."
His tone remained calm. Professional. Absolute. The same measured voice he'd used countless times as Deputy Headmaster while separating students moments before they jinxed one another. "And then I'll remove it for you."
Not a threat, but a promise. Gideon's expression never changed. His expression deadly calm. He didn’t raise his wand, or his voice, he just stood there, eye to eye with a man that didn’t intimidate him one bit. Everything about his stance and demeanor said the same thing. You’ve made a very big mistake.
RE: Smiles like a snake || Thatcher - Lavinia Blackwood - 08-13-2026
Lavinia felt the grip on her wrist before she fully processed it. The man had an imposing stature when standing upright, but the fact that she knew he was three sheets to the wind made him a bit less intimidating.
She went still for just a moment, not out of fear but surprise. A lot of the men she’d dealt with that had decided to make moves on her when they were intoxicated had usually just used sleezy words. Rarely did they lay hands on her.
She blinked a moment later and her brother was there, his hand closing around the man’s wrist with the type of pressure that could be unmistakable.
Lavinia didn’t move.
“Take your hand off her. Now.”
Just a moment later, her wrist was released. She glared up at the man, using her other hand to rub where he’d been holding her. After another second, she drew back and hit him. Not a slap. A closed fist. The way her older brothers had taught her when they decided she needed to know how to defend herself. It connected cleanly with the side of his jaw.
The bottle was still in her other hand. She hadn’t even set it down. “Send your wife my regards,” she said pleasantly, and set the bottle on the nearest table so she could smooth out the front of her dress. She glanced up at her brother briefly before picking up the bottle and heading back to the bar.