outfit

Agnes see-saw out of Gringotts, feeling slightly dizzy.
Maybe she had starred at that goblin person for a bit too long, and maybe getting an own vault at Gringotts hadn't been the best of ideas. If she had known what kind of journey she had to go through to get to her money, she clearly wouldn't have done it. Clinging to her handbag, she send a quick prayer heavenwards, thanking for her credit cards. What a blessing they were.

Two steps, and she sat down on the floor rather quickly- so the journey to the floor wouldn't be that long in case she fainted...or threw up. Oh my

The engineer looked up, finding people eyeing her suspiciously. Not necessarily because she was sitting on the floor, but because she did that wearing a short skirt, blouse and high heels. She -kind of- didn't fit into the scene. And no matter how tiny she was, Agnes could have been spotted from a zillion miles away.

Th plan had been to buy some supplies for her evening classes, like a cauldron, several ingridients for whatever they were planning to brew tonight as well parchment and some ink.

 She groaned. Did she actually just think about "brewing a potions"? That was so beyond sanity she hoped no one would ever find out. None of her sane non-magic friends at least. This was like Lord of the Rings live, just a bit creepier. Afterall, fighting orks was something just a little bit dirty and aggressive, but at least getting rough made more sense than wand waving Woo-hoo look at that squirrel i just turned yellow stuff.

A kid in a tiny cloak threw a wet parchment at her. Agnes thought about throwing something back, but maybe getting into trouble wasn't the best idea. Encouraging herself she got up and slowly made her way down the alley, not knowing where to go or look first. But apparently the people who were here with couldn't stop staring either....

Okay, she thought, this is not working. She needed clothes, something that would help her blend in a little. Or just someone who could tell her where she could get that funny looking newspaper from.

"I'll see you next week," Tilly called after an old friend, with whom she had just spent an hour discussing business-- or rather, ten minutes discussing business, and another fifty chatting about slightly less productive and therefore infinitely more important things (in the grand scheme of the universe, anyway). She took a sip of the lukewarm coffee she'd been holding through the entire conversation, tilting back her head to collect the last drops of liquid energy. Delicious.

Standing up, she gathered her bag over one shoulder, and tucked a stack of papers under the opposite arm, still balancing the empty coffee cup, and cut across the top step of Gringotts like a balance beam in the direction of Reducto Records, before taking them two at a time. She was so used to them by now, loitering on them, skipping up them, rushing through the bank doors, and floating back into the streets, that she rarely watched the ground below her feet. If the goblins were ever pestered, they never said so... or else their opinions of the young woman who claimed the monolithic steps as one of her ideal places of business were kept in mutters, unheard by Matilda Quinn's music enamored ears.

But as she descended into the alley, she couldn't help but notice what had caught the attention of several others. Or, rather, who had caught their attention. The wayward soul was dressed like any muggle Londoner on a work week, which Matilda knew, because she had spent many years living among muggles, and still often preferred their way of dress herself. Weaving smoothly through the ever-moving crowd, Tilly came to dancey sort of halt in front of the stranger. She had no intention of mowing over the poor woman, who, in addition to looking slightly out of place, also seemed a touch disoriented or queasy, unless it was a trick of the light.

"New in town?" She asked, smiling. She approached her the same as she had approached Fyedka, the future Hogwarts student she'd bumped into several weeks ago, trying not to be overbearing. But Matilda wasn't the sort of person who was shy around strangers, and she had a knack for gravitating toward people who were 'different'. As if the shop she ran, with its quirky and often eccentric customer base weren't enough, Tilly had spent her life being the odd one out in this little corner of the world. And she'd rather come to love it.

"I might be able to help you. The maps they hand out are pretty rubbish," she explained with an apologetic grin. She'd drawn her own a million and half times, on loose parchment, on scraps of the Daily Prophet, on palms. She pressed her coffee cup to her lips out of habit, and in vain because it was empty but still smelled lovely. She gave it a little shake, and shrugged. "Where are you trying to go?"

"New in town?"

A young woman probably her age stopped in front of her and straight away  Agnes felt something letting go of her, making way for a sudden relief.
A smile broke through that confusion somewhere. "I can only imagine what kind of impression I made for someone to come over and ask this question," she replied grinning, "but thank god for that." Of course she would have been able to cope - somehow- but it didn't exactly help that she was trying to find a good explanation for the impossible architecture of Gringotts while being without orientation. She glanced back at the building over her shoulder for a second, just to make sure it was still standing.

When she had been here for the first time in her life, a scallywag who had just turned someone blue because he had been annoying, things haven't bothered her that much. Back then, she just decided to accept the fact that she was witch and took it all in without thinking about it. Now, after years and years of studying science and machine elements, simply accepting things that didn't make sense didn't come that easy.

"I might be able to help you. The maps they hand out are pretty rubbish, where are you trying to go?"


"Ehm, well..."Agnes looked up into the sky for a moment (or what you could see of it) and pulled her skirt down a little before she started rummaging in her black leather bag for that long long parchment list of things she wanted to buy.

"I am not particularly sure, actually, " she continued saying while half her head was buried in her bag. Finally getting a hold of the list she emerged again,showing an apologetic smile.
"After my first Gringotts experience though I'd say wherever you got this from, "she pointed at the coffee cup, feeling a sudden urge for something very strong and hot- despite the weather. Nothing has ever brought her better through the day than a good coffee, "but if it's not a to-go i'll never get everything done."

"I'm Stella", the engineer finally let go off her handbag she had been clinging onto like a paranoid and extended her hand, "Agnes, technically, but- Stella, you know?" She made her typical you know how cruel parents can be but i'm trying to make the best of it expression, shrugging.

"And please don't leave me", she added quickly without knowing whether to laugh or to actually beg. It turned out to be something in between, but Agnes hoped it was friendly enough for her opposite not to feel overrun. "I haven't been in Diagon Alley for 12 years. I'm not only lost, it's an complete data overflow"

"I can only imagine what kind of impression I made for someone to come over and ask this question... but thank god for that."

Shaking her head and letting out a breathy laugh, Tilly wanted to assure the woman that whatever impression she had made, it wasn't a bad one. She just seemed a little lost. No harm done, really-- and it was usually the lost ones who had the best stories. "I think you're just catching a few curious eyes," she reasoned, trying to pacify the woman. "Nothing bad. You look nice and harmless." Not that Tilly believed books should be judged by their covers. But she highly doubted this woman was the next dark lord, purposely swathed in muggle attire to confuse people. Tilly herself was wearing a summery skirt, thin t-shirt, and strappy flat sandals... one of the standard hot weather uniforms of her management position, and, luckily, a mix of garb more frequently seen in places Reducto Records, with its treasure chest of customers. Summer had also brought a plethora of young and witches and wizards in their nonmagical ensembles. "You aren't ill, though, are you?" She added. "You do look a little dizzy..."

Smiling more to herself now, while the woman dove into the depths of her bag, Tilly wondered whether the newcomer might have one of those Expanding Charms on her purse, or whether was simply a hoarder of random possessions... not entirely unlike Tilly herself, who, in all of her preference for auditory things, still had a plethora of seemingly pointless (but actually very meaningful) belongings. Even so, the woman came off as perhaps a bit more organized than she. The list she produced implied as much.

Looking down at her coffee with another laugh, Tilly immediately understood. "Gringotts is a trip. Personally, I love a good spin the carts-- but it's not for everyone. And you can't get anything done without fuel," she offered in sympathy. "Right over there and we'll have a look at this list," she added, gesturing with her head toward the other side of the busy street, and a few doors south. But first, the introductions. "It's brilliant to meet you, Stella, I'm Tilly. Also a 'technically'-- Matilda-- but Tilly will do."

The cafe was a lifesaver, undoubtedly. Shoving her own papers more properly under her arm, Matilda began a slow stroll in that direction, wanting to assure the woman she wasn't going to ditch her in the middle of a crowded alley. Particularly one she herself knew so well. It was simply the natural thing to do, to help a lost person find their niche. Tilly had been lost enough times in her life, even if she knew exactly who she was. "Don't worry," she promised. "We've all been there..." Some to a greater extent than others, granted. "But where are you from exactly? Did you Floo here? Fly?" It wasn't always important to know where someone had come from, but now it felt as if the answer might clear up more than a few things. From the looks of her, and the way she spoke, Tilly would have believed she'd taken a taxi straight to The Leaky Cauldron. Anything was possible. She glanced back to the list in the woman's hand as they came to a stop outside of the cafe. It was like reading a Hogwarts student's school list, but it was tailored for an adult witch.