Wizarding Realm -> How to pad your piggy bank
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 How to pad your piggy bank, Lenny !
Renée de Rose d'Argent
 Posted: May 6 2017, 01:50 AM
Quote

"So many possibilities, which one to explore first?"

AGE:
15
YEAR:
5th Year
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
HEIGHT:
STATUS:
Muggleborn
POSTS:
71
Rep: 7 pts [ + | - ]

Awards: 8



During breakfast that day, a letter dropped onto Renée’s lap. When she saw opened it and saw the large and ornate signature at the bottom, she had half a mind to toss it right away. It was from the mastermind of schemes, a boy who some said was the shadow leader of a vast criminal underground: Lenny Plunkett. Renée had heard laments from other students who had fallen victim to his crafty wiles, and she herself had been a victim too.

Lenny had advertised a special potion that would increase one’s smarts and would fortify both focus and stamina to enable a student to study longer, and harder. The offer was naturally enticing to Renée. There were so many things she wanted to read about in a day, and there was never enough time to get around to pursuing every promising idea that could lead to the next wizarding breakthrough. And the price was easily affordable. She brought it back with her to the dorms, and later she took a sip. Was it the fizz and snap of the bubbling brew? Or was it the liquid’s crystal clear transparency? No, it was the overpowering sweetness and the way it stuck to her tongue relentlessly and the aftertaste that stubbornly refused to go away. Renée had grown up in a Muggle household. There was no mistaking the taste of Mountain Dew. Even after she realized she had paid ten times the price that the soda sold for in Muggle markets, Renée didn’t stomp off and angrily demand a refund. Instead she sat calmly at the desk in her room, and sipped the rest of it. It wasn’t often that she had the chance to drink soda at Hogwarts. She missed the syrupy stuff a little.

Due to her previous history with Lenny’s products, Renée felt a bit skeptical about the letter. In it, he declared that he wanted to discuss some ideas for future business ventures. It said to meet him after classes were over in the second to last classroom on the left hand side of the corridor. Still though, Lenny had taken the time to reach out to her and arrange a meeting. It would only be fair to give him a chance, right? Thus, after classes, she found herself walking through the stone halls to the designated classroom.

Some would suggest that Lenny was a conman. She cringed. No, no, no. He was...he was a businessman. Yes, a businessman with guile and charm. The problem was that Lenny’s business dealings didn’t seem entirely legitimate. Partnering with him could jeopardize her reputation, and that of her family’s. Yet, there was something undeniable about Lenny. The way he seemed to understand people and how their minds ticked. The way he carefully selected his words so they would be exactly the words his customers wanted to hear. There was genius in him, and despite his decidedly dubious nature, Renée was secretly a fan.

Having arrived at the door of the second to last classroom on the left side of the hallway, she reached for the handle and tugged the door open.

@Lenny Plunkett

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Lenny Plunkett
 Posted: May 23 2017, 08:18 AM
Quote

"buy some one liners i'll throw in some yo mamas"

AGE:
15
YEAR:
5th
HOUSE:
Slytherin
CLASH:
Viridian Guild
HEIGHT:
5'3
STATUS:
Muggleborn
POSTS:
662
Rep: 67 pts [ + | - ]

Lenny Plunkett
© Ruthie // She/Her
Awards: 44



Glitter glue was the foundation that held everything together. In the very least, it added a certain aesthetic that screamed I hope this distracts from the fact I know bupkis about what I’m pitching. Lenny took a step back from his presentation, the sheets of parchment layered on top of one another and spello-taped to the blackboard, and gave his chin a pensive stroke. At the time of construction, he had thought the digraphs and pie-charts adorned in a gradient of different sparkly colours seemed attractive and pleasing, and tailor made for more feminine tastes. Now, as he flipped through each page, it just appeared.. childish. Like a literal eight year old girl had produced this for a classroom project on her guinea pig named LoLo. The title, which was also gruesomely bejewelled, almost seemed to lash out at him: Textilin’ 2 the 21st Century. It didn’t even make sense. Well, he supposed it was too late to change it now.

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, a critical voice was telling him he had spent too much time and effort on an overly shallow and glitzy presentation, and not enough on substance. Unlike other voices of conscious he had heard before, this one was a bit harder to ignore with it’s distinctive know-it-all haughtiness. There’s a thought process there, but absolutely no follow through, Leonard, “Well, at least I’m not ripping off first years this time!” He answered aloud to an empty room. A surprised hand came up to clap his mouth. He wasn’t one to make it a practice of responding to projected figments of his psyche. Particularly when their countenance so clearly resembled another Ravenclaw girl, and one who was quite different than the eagle he was to meet today. The small snake gave his head a physical shake. Not now, Gretchen.

For as fictitious of an image of a real girl as she may have been, she did have a point. These so-called business proposals were nothing more than half-chewed schemes that lead to more questions than they did results, but at least he was trying! The very fact that he was even attempting to latch onto a valid enterprise oozed with the desperation of the situation. He had come up short of his quota for the last few months, and the Wilcoxes were starting to become impatient. Scratch that. Impatient left the train five stations ago. It was a precarious situation his father had landed himself in, as the sole criminal defence lawyer to the London crime family. It only took one slip up from Jeremy Plunkett to land him in some fairly deep and near boiling water. The first year in Lenny’s foray into criminal business had been, for the most part, successful. Now, more than halfway through his second year as a self-proclaimed master of the con, the innocent act of an underwhelming weakling wasn’t quite pulling in the dough anymore. The small-time shyster had gained a reputation, and made a name for himself, neither of which were favourable. Even so, that didn’t mean that the deal he had struck with the Wilcoxes in a bid for his dad’s life was just gonna disappear.

So, it’s come to this, he sniffed as he looked around the room, rocking in a semi-circle with his hands on his hips, legitimacy.. Ugh. Although just how legitimate a fifteen year old kid with a glitter glue business proposal would have to remain to be seen. Of course, there was his patented Plunkett flair, and likely at least a third of the ideas could borderline on being illegal, but yes. Legitimacy. In the very least, he hoped it would be impressive enough to Renée. He hoped she liked glitter. Truthfully, there wasn’t all too much he knew about his fellow fifth year on a personal level. Her family’s business, though? Now that was something he had invested a bit of research in. Although his knowledge on textiles themselves didn’t go much beyond they’re clothing, probably, he felt marginally confident that he could work out.. something.

Fake it ’til you make it.

The click of the door knob seemed amplified by a thousand in the abandoned and mostly barren classroom. Lenny flipped around at the shoulders before the rest of his torso followed suit. He was thankful his perspective business partner had chosen to open the door herself instead of knocking, because he really didn’t want to touch.. just about anything in this room. Besides the regular amount of germaphobia that tagged along with him in his everyday life, there was something especially creepy about this place. Even more so than the other three hundred and eighty-four abandoned classrooms that apparently existed in the castle. So as he placed himself at the helm of the room, posing himself with confident professionalism, he took special care not to knock any part of his person into anything around him. Then he sucked in a large breath, to better accentuate the prowess of his particularly non masculine and almost flabbily feminine chest.

“Ahh!” He boomed in his deepest voice as the girl entered the vicinity. Though it still didn’t mask the very special nasal quality of his, as if always speaking through a cold, “Miss de Rose Dablambant..” wait.. “.. Miss de Rose Demargin..” wtfoop? He had never been one to be get so tongue tied. Speeches overwrought with almost unpronounceable words that were, quite frankly, most likely misused but there merely due to their length was totes his jam, sucka! Maybe he was just nervous, “.. Renée..” he finally concluded with a clap of his hands. Walking closer to his schoolmate, he indicated to a desk that had some very crumpled looking scones on a napkin that he definitely pilfered from lunch, “Please, help yourself to some refreshments.. on me,” and he winked, “You have no idea how thrilled I am to have this meeting. Just two sophisticated and worldly minds, coming together in a big, delicious.. juicy brain meld. Mmmmmm. So!” Again, he clapped his hand, while walking back toward his presentation.

“Shall we just plunge right into it, then?”

Tagged: @Renée de Rose d'Argent

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Renée de Rose d'Argent
 Posted: Jun 16 2017, 01:03 AM
Quote

"So many possibilities, which one to explore first?"

AGE:
15
YEAR:
5th Year
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
HEIGHT:
STATUS:
Muggleborn
POSTS:
71
Rep: 7 pts [ + | - ]

Awards: 8



She pushed the door open with some trepidation, not knowing what to expect. Instantly the musty scent of age-old dust and dampness assailed her nose. Abandoned classroom indeed. As she walked in, a low booming voice immediately caught her attention. Upon seeing Lenny, a grin appeared on her face to greet him. A chuckle escaped as he tried in vain to pronounce her last name. Renée thought she had heard it all. Little Rosey, Silver Pansy, Rose Detergent, but Rose Deblambant. The name was similar to that of a cartoon character from a show she had watched when she was in primary school. Images of a white haired toddler violently tossing a club around while he sat on the floor flooded her mind. The grin transformed into a full-blown smile when she approached the Slytherin at the center of the room.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Plunkett,” said Renée, offering to shake her new acquaintance’s hand. “Just Renée is fine,” she insisted, wishing to put him at ease. Heck, Renée herself was far from at ease. Butterflies were causing havoc in her stomach, and she didn’t think her smile was wide enough to conceal her nervousness. Moisture accumulated on her palms, but she willed herself not to think about it. It also didn’t help that her parents had always told her that first impressions mattered the most. Perhaps this was what an interview was like. She’d never had to go through one herself, but what she had heard from other students applying for internships within the school, it was as though you were both the salesman and the commodity being sold at the same time. At least this time though, both Lenny and her were trying to sell their ideas to each other, so the playing field was about the same.

Having introduced herself, Renée walked to a seat behind the desk where the scones sat. Fine gray particles covered the wooden chair. She brushed it off with a few swats from her sleeve and sat down. The Ravenclaw was not one to pass up free food, especially since she was always starving after class. She thanked Lenny for the generous offer and took a scone. With any luck, maybe the scone would hit a few of those rebellious butterflies on its way down to her stomach. There was something familiar about its crumbly texture and buttery taste, but the thought soon vanished from her mind as the sparkles caught her attention.

Spread across the blackboard were posters adorned with a decadent amount of glitter that shimmered irresistibly in the late afternoon’s light. Adding to the brilliance was the myriad of colors, each exotic hue forming different shapes and backgrounds. Renée reckoned from a distance the blackboard probably looked like a cubist painting, just with more vibrant colors. The various graphs and charts reminded her of the ones in the company conference room back home. When she was younger, she was often present during meetings between her parents and their advisors, since she was told not to wander too far from their sight. The young Renée hardly paid attention to the big words tossed around and instead, sat in a swivel chair and spun round and round until she was dizzy. What does a kid care about growth curves and cost-benefit and resource management? The charts back then had been boringly black and white with some red lines that zigzagged across the pages. Now, had they been as magnificently glitzy as Lenny’s, perhaps she would have been more interested.

Textilin’ 2 the 21st Century. Not the most professional of titles, but it certainly got the point across. The broad smile returned the Ravenclaw’s face as she looked at her prospective business partner. “Yeah, let’s start! I can’t wait to hear the marvelous ideas you have swimming around in that brain of yours.” It was evident that he had put a lot of thought and considerable effort into his presentation. She shuffled through her bag and withdrew some paper and a Muggle pen and set it upon the table in front of her. Renée was appreciative of anyone who was willing to talk business with her, and Lenny would receive her full attention. She felt certain that whatever ideas Lenny had, they had potential to become the next big break.

@Lenny Plunkett

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