Nine O'Clock on a Saturday

[justin randulf]

Half Giants had gigantic appetites. Of course they did, and this one was no exception. Justin had been informed his would be the last meal made at La Aguja that night and to get anything else he wanted out of the way in that same order. So he did, two huge rare steaks, mashed potatoes, various vegitables, and desert. Not to mention beer. Not butterbeer, Nothing so light and weak for this man.  Justin had once heard of a muggle man, with some condition that made him the size of a half giant who used to drink spirits from puch bowls and once consumed a hundred and eight cans of beer in one night at a bar. The classmate who had told him the story had said this man was named Andre the Giant. It amused Justin to think that a muggle 'giant' could handle that much, he was quite a few drinks in, himself now but he didn't think he'd reach triple digets. His son wasn't in school yet and the babysitter was going to be leaving when he got home he had t one somewhat sober. Still, he was further into his drinking than he should have been  and there was a small, but growing collection of bottles before him. He motioned for more, and looked as the owner told the cook to deliver his order.

As he saw the other man approach, Justin took in his array of tattoos, his straight-backed stride and his missing leg. Justin knew from a glance that this was a war wound, and that he was seeing a fellow veteran. As the food was deposited in front of him the half giant. Quite sober considering the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, offered the other a  respectful grin. He didn't stand or salute. He doubted this man was a part of the same military he was, but that didn't bother him. "Is that a war wound?" He asked  the other, gesturing to his leg,  and offering a smile. "I'd love to hear the story if you're up for telling it." He asked reclining across the booth, which at any accommodated a half giant poorly. 


"Staff Sergeant Justin Randulf." He offered the other man the introduction, along with a handshake.

[Deleted]

Of course the last person to make an order had to go over the top. Who in the hell ate two huge steaks? Whatever at least it gave him something to do before the kitchen closed. Doran balanced every place in one walk, he'd gotten way better with his prosthetic leg. The first month he did nothing but fall. Upon seeing which hungry hungry customer made the order things started to make sense. What a big ass dude. Had to be part giant this couldn't be a regular tall human. Doran had no problem with giants. Heck he didn't even hate werewolves. He never did, he was just following orders. Ever since the Minister changed, his work as a hitwizard and soldier no longer felt like justice. But still he wouldn't break honour. If he even could call what they were doing honour. He was more bitter about the Ministry's response to his fall than he was angry with the werewolves who laid the trap. Of course they killed his brothers and sisters in arms but it was war. That he understood.

"Enjoy your meal, sir," he said with a polite grin as he eyed the collection of empty bottles. "I'm not sure if I'd envy your skill or not. However my wallet definitely doesn't envy yours." Whenever he was working he got some distraction from the reality that his life was over despite that he refused to die like that. Doran gazed up when the guest asked directly about his missing leg. Most people would look and pretend they didn't see it whenever a conversation was going on. He checked the clock. Why not? What was the worst that could happen? He too wanted to tell his story some day. "Sure but it ain't one of honour and glory. Lemme get a drink first, I'm done for the day," he took off his apron and threw it over the seat across the man. Then he grabbed a beer from behind the bar. His eyebrow rose when the guest introduced himself as a staff sergeant. He grew a little curious. "I doubt you're Staff Sergeant of the wizarding army, which good," he said with a nod. He'd have known it had Sergeant Randulf been part of the wizarding army. Unless they replaced the whole bunch. Umbridge seemed found of replacing entire staff. The again, he didn't have the right height to be accepted. "I was. Have been since I graduated. Back then everything was still cool, you know? Shacklebolt was a man I was proud to serve. Then Umbridge came... I still served but I wasn't proud anymore," he told the man. "We were send on a mission, it was a trap laid by the wolves. My seer friend told me but you know, orders are orders," he shrugged. "I was prepared to die but now I'm here."

[justin randulf]

Doran laughed. "Yeah. I don't drink often. best I make it count when I do." It wasn't that unusual for a military guy to drink hard when he did drink. That was an aspect of the macho culture that was prevail ant in the armed forces, for sure. That said, when you needed as much to drink as Justin to even feel a buzz, it sometimes just wasn't worth the effort. Though occasionally, he'd get new recruits making bets with more established army members, to see if they could 'get sarge drunk'. If they did, their tabs, and Justin's were paid for by the loser. If not... well then they were just out a lot of money, and Justin might actually get a little buzz going.

Gratefully he took his meal and begin to eat slowly, though most of his attention was on the other man's story, and soon the eating stopped. He didn't want to be disrespectful. Justin was beginning to realise this man likely had a lot of problems with the werewolves. A trap like that was something Barrows would order, and honestly while Sergeant Randulf might not have approved of the Cursebreaker's methods much more than he approved of Greyback's, that was the difference between himself and Doran. He was still proud to serve, because in truth he was serving every innocent werewolf that had no choice in what they were. Every relative of a werewolf who would lose a loved one to Umbridge' vendetta. It didn't matter who was in command as long as he could do that. As the story wrapped up, Justin nodded, giving the man a genuinely sympathetic look. When he spoke there was no hatred in his voice.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, man. And for your brothers." He said pouring a splash of drink onto the floor, customary respect to those past. The owner probably wouldn't have approved, but the sleazy man was also smoking a cigar behind the bar just now, so Justin didn't care too much what he thought. With that, he downed the rest of the bottle and set to eating his meal. Justin was a little annoyed by the small size of the cutlery compared to his giant hands. he produced his wand "Engorgio." he said increasing the size of the knife and fork he was eating with to a level he found manageable. He'd worry about shrinking them back down later. "Good steak" He praised.

A solid bit of the way through the meal he piped up. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. My brothers can be brutal sometimes, and our leadership is hard as hell, but with Umbridge in power we don't have a lot of choices." He didn't expect that to make him any friends. He wasn't excusing the behaviour of his comrades either. But he hoped this man understood something about following orders, and defending the people that you cared about. Justin had herd about and ambush and he disagreed, but arguing with Lieutenant General Barrows wasn't something he would do. It wasn't his place.

[Deleted]

Doran watched as the other ate the meal he prepped. Aside from his former girlfriend, he'd never seen anyone eat his food. Sure he worked with less resources here but he had cooked with less in the army. The man stopped eating as he spoke. Doran grew worried he didn't like it. He'd never met anyone who didn't like his food so what would he do if this was the first person to do so? He wanted to ask if the food wasn't of his liking but he decided to continue the story he'd promised the man. "Thanks," he mumbled when the other man apologized for the loss of his brothers. Honestly he didn't know why the man was apologizing probably out of politeness. Doran only once met a part giant, back in school but never really talked to him because they'd been in different years and houses. He never guessed part giants were this kind and polite. His eye fell on the splash that hit the floor. With a sigh he got up and cleaned it, he didn't want his boss or Rose to get angry with either of them. Both could be very scary.

When he got up form the cleaning the half giant complimented his food. That brought a smile on the broken man's face. His pale cheeks glowed happily. He might have lost his capability to fight but the fact that he could still cook proved he wasn't dead yet. It made him especially happy because before he worried the man didn't like his food. "Thanks glad you like it," he said as he took his seat back. "Huh?" The colour faded from his face when sergeant Randulf spoke of his brothers being brutal. "What do you mean? Don't you fight for the-" giants? No this man wasn't lying. But...? "I would've punched you in the face had you been an ass about it. But you're not," he said and sipped his beer. "I understand you had no choice. I just wished your ways could've been less gruesome. You aren't really proving humans the opposite of what Umbridge claims of you," he told the ? Was this a half giant werewolf?

[justin randulf]

Soldiers on opposite sides of conflicts often found ways to get along when the gunfire was quiet. During World War Two, soldiers from both sides had exchanged Christmas presents, in Vietnam, soldiers from both sides were treated in the same civilian hospitals occasionally and formed friendships. Veterans from opposite sides often met after the wars were done and got along afterward. Was that what was happening here? Justin considered the other's reaction to his line comment. Oh, this was gonna be bad. He was braced for a bar fight... of course he was a giant and this man was a wounded vet. It wouldn't be hard fight, but he wasn't going to savour breaking this man's good leg... And then, there was no fight and the adenaline slowly drained from Justin. he took a deep breath.

Normally he wouldn't have criticised Greyback, or Barrows. They were both his superiors and Justin respected them both, if not for their methods, for the fact that they fought for his well being, and protected his people from Delores Umbridge' tyrannical regime. Still. He had no misconceptions about who they were, and the sorts of orders they had given him. "Look, I don't always like the orders we get from up higher, but I follow them, and even on wolfsbane it's easy to get carried away when you get started... I'm not making excuses. What happened to your squad was fucked up. I'm glad I wasn't a part of it." He said doing his best to get his regret across, while still expressing his loyalty.