Name: Rowena Ollivander
Age: 26
Shop: Ollivander's Wand Shop
Position Wanted: Owner
Qualifications: Grew up around wands and has a hand in building them since she was 11 years old. Mastery in Arithmancy & Ancient Runes. Learned from the best wand maker around, an Ollivander.
RP Sample of Work:
Rowena sang softly to herself as she waited for something exciting to happen. She had already dusted the wand boxes, organized the back room and started a few wands. Now all she wanted to do was get some human contact. An it seemed like Merlin himself had decided to answer her prayers as a handsome man stepped right into her shop. Rowena stopped singing the moment she sighted him and smiled brightly in response to his own smile.

"Hello, my name is Rowena... Welcome to Ollivanders," she leaned her hip against the counter as she bit back a deep and sudden need to laugh. "I have to say you came to the right place Mr..." she glanced down at his paperwork to get his name. It wasn't everyday that someone with an American accent made their way into her shop, but it wasn't that peculiar to her. Travelling with her mother all around the world helped her get used to all types of accents. Nothing voice related seemed to surprise her anymore. "..Stevenson." Rowena bit back the cheeky comment that threatened to slip out by distracting herself with more important things that needed to be done. Like finding the man a wand and not wasting his time.

She glanced back down at his paperwork, studying his information closely to determine which of her wands would suit him best. There were so many to choose from and she hadn't the slightest idea of where to start. "I'm sure we can find something that would suit you...I see you were from Salem. Can I ask what your wand was there?" she asked curiously, fascinated to learn if they had different methods from her own. Rowena slipped back on her flats before circling around the counter, tilting her head to the right as she studied his arms and then moving back over his face.

(Excerpt taken from one of my previous wand posts)

"Application Accepted"

Name: Evaina Moore
Age: Twenty three
Shop: Bite Me
Position Wanted: Manager
Qualifications: She's straight, to the point, and know's how to make decisions and how to execute them. She does not take an attitude from anyone and therefore can easily keep her employees and even the rowdy customers in order if need be. She's also a practiced dueler and that can come in handy at any moment within a bar setting.
RP Sample of Work:
A rush of air escaped past Evaina's parted lips as she bent over the bar, scrubbing furiously at a stubborn spot that wouldn't give way to her efforts. The bar had closed only minutes before when she had finally been able to round up the last of the lingering drunks trying to buy her alcohol. Her refusals had gotten progressively less friendly as the night had continued and soon she was outright nasty until her point was gotten. She was the bloody manager, for Merlin's sake. She couldn't be going around drinking on the job and very well teaching her employees the complete wrong way to handle working in the type of environment they were in. Her lower lip slid in between her two rows of teeth as she finally was able to rid the grimy counter of that single spot, before continuing to wipe it down with a rag.

While she knew the cleaning crew would be in soon, she still liked to do things herself every now and again to ensure it was being done correctly. After finishing with the bar she took inventory of the liquor, noted what was used most throughout the evening, and which needed to be re-stocked before the next night. As tired as she was with it nearing four in the morning, she worked through the grogginess that threatened to surround her brain. She had an establishment to run, and there would be plenty of time for sleep when she was buried six feet under. Turning to observe the rest of the business, she placed her hands on her hips as she analyzed. Soon, a flick of her wrist had all the different glasses that had been left about randomly to come flying back to the bar, lining them up in a straight line to be cleaned.

After that she wandered around, making sure everything was in order and that there was nothing she had to fix. It wasn't uncommon, so she was thoroughly surprised when everything seemed to still be in tact. Drunken fights and arguments happened on a daily and she was so used to having to clean up the messes after, but it was a nice change not to. She made her way around Bite Me a couple more times before she finally resigned to the fact that everything was done the way it was meant to. Stifling a yawn, she bid farewell to the cleaning crew and headed out into the chilly early-morning air. Wandering into the nearest alleyway, she apparated with a sharp snap. After all, she had to go home and get her rest -- in a few hours time, she'd be up and at it again.

"Application Accepted"

Name: Steven Walker
Age: 27
Shop: Slug & Jigger's Apothecary
Position Wanted: Shop Keeper
Qualifications: An O in NEWTs for Potions and Herbology, and a university mastery in Potions.
RP Sample of Work:

Steven was excited for his first day as the manager of Slug & Jigger's Apothecary. He had been working hard at university so that he would be able to finally use his skills in a place like this, and he was glad that he had been accepted. When he walked in, however, he found that the place was not quite a pleasant as he had hoped. It looked decent enough, but there was dust gathered beneath the counter and a potion had poured out of it's bottle, and ended up all over the paperwork desk.

He had been told that the place hadn't had a full time shopkeeper for quite a while, so he understood the disarray. He also knew that would mean he would have to get to work making potions to replace the ones that had been left to sit too long. He didn't mind though, as it was the thing that he loved to do. Steven placed the keys on a hook near the back door and wrapped the work-apron that he had brought with him around his body before making his way to a cupboard marked 'Cleaning Supplies'. Opening the doors, he was thankful to see that there were enough products there to effectively clean the shop. Magic was a brilliant thing, but there were some potions that you couldn't use magic to clean, so it was usually safer to use muggle-type cleaners when surrounded by so many different potions.

He quickly got to work, and in the two hours before the shop was set to open he managed to get the place looking presentable and smelling a lot better. Standing at the door, he smiled at the work that he had one and entered the shop again, a happier look on his face. He put away everything that he had used and began to pull out ingredients from storage, preparing to make a batch of Black Fire Potion. He was about to begin when the bell above the front door chimed. After taking a deep breath and placing a smile on his face, Steven headed out to the counter and said, "Hello, is there anything that I can help you with?"

"Application Accepted"

Name: Ezra Lang
Age: 48
Shop: Magical Menagerie
Position Wanted: Owner
Qualifications: Trained Veterinarian
RP Sample of Work:

It had been quite by chance that Ezra had ended up with a whole new hatchling of baby sweedoves. They were wee little things, though they wouldn't remain so for long. For the time being though, they were fluffy and chirpy, but they were also entirely time consuming, and he'd ended up having to crash on the floor of the Menagerie the last two nights. They needed constant attention, and at so young an age, they were constantly hungry. It would have been easy if they took nourishment the way most did. But they were a rare breed, a fed most unusually. On the sound of human singing. They would nuzzle up to him, on the cold December nights as he sung them lullaby's from his childhood, chirping in contentment, and butting their heads against him for, should her stop.

For the past two night, Ezra had sung every two hours until the birds had settled, but he was growing much too tired now and he was hungry. When had he last fed, even? He was forever trying to hold out, before skeeving off to some dark, dank bar where men and women alike begged to be fed from. It made him shudder, shuffling closer to the baby birds to get away from his thoughts. He knew he'd have to pay them a visit soon, before he put people in danger, but for now his duty lay elsewhere. Ensuring his darling birds were not hungry.

Unsurprisingly there were already potential buyers lined up. This usually happened whenever Ezra came upon unusual animals. Some older gent, with far more money than sense, and a daughter who cooed and ahhed and ate up Ezra's stories, would enter the shop and ask to see his latest acquisition. Despite this Ezra never parted with an animal unless he believed they would be truly looked after. It was the only thing his Vampire ability was good for, sensing intentions and truths. He loved the animals too much to put them at risk. They were the ones he sought comfort in, and talked to after being turned, much too afraid to venture out among his old kind. He'd never see them wrong.

His hand reached out to stroke the bravest birds plumage. She was bright violet, with a green crest and gold talons and an extraordinary singer; even daring to join Ezra in song. He was fond of the bird and rather reluctant to part with her. He only had Rigby as a familiar, though the bird was now to old to fly, he loved him dearly. Gazing down at the brave little bird Ezra toyed with the idea of keeping her. His decision was made as the bird cocked it's head and then flutter up on it's rusty wings to rest on his shoulder. She would stay... now he simply had to pick a name.

"Application Accepted"