You say that music's for the birds,
And you can't understand the words?

Well, honey, if you did,
You'd really blow your lid,
'Cause, baby, that is rock and roll.
@silverfox

The rock star lifestyle was exactly what Van had always imagined for himself. The crowds, the music, the drugs, women and booze. It was like a dream come true. He was finally allowed to be himself, the rebel, and throw caution to the wind. Well...maybe not all the way to the wind. The band's reputation had some bad connotations and, yes, some of that was his fault. He would admit that. But what had happened over the weekend, that was not him. Not all him... Ok, it was a lot him. Alright, if we're being honest it was all his fault and he knew it. Which is why he had to go talk to 'the man'. Normally Van was the 'fight the man', 'anarchy in the UK' type, but he knew that this time was different. Specifically because Tib had told him so, and since he loved his band he would make sure this was righted.

Weekends were always the craziest. The crowds were bigger and louder, drunker and more obnoxious. It was like a heard of Van's stormed the town and he was their leader. He would rile them up as much as he could and it caused problems. Bar fights, property damage, those were usual. It was rock-n-roll for Merlin's sake! Break down the establishment! Normally such antics wouldn't illicit a visit from the Ministry, at least not from the Department of Magical Catastrophes. Normally Van's antics wouldn't illicit a visit, but this was no normal event.

Maybe he was coming off of some sort of bender after finding out his best mate had been married, or maybe he was just annihilated from the bottle of bourbon he had found back stage, but he had forgotten where he was and what he was doing. He had forgotten that it had been a mixed bar, and when he cast Asciendo the muggles hadn't been so alarmed. There were enough ways to explain him randomly taking off in the air across stage. For fuck's sake, Lady Gaga was flying around the stage during the Super Bowl halftime show and no one batted an eye! No, the flying around part hadn't been the issue. It was what came after...

Draconifors was a spell Van had learned long, long ago. One he had never forgotten and, on occasion, used for his own amusement. Amusing it had been, as he turned the bottles of liquor at the bar into little dragons and watching them fly about. The muggles nearly shit themselves when they breathed little flashes of fire from above. Most just videoed the whole thing on their phones. It was lucky the Ministry had arrived quickly or the videos would likely have spread across the entire internet within the hour. They had to come and obliviate, or make an excuse, or whatever the hell it is that the Ministry does. And although the issued had been solved, Van still found himself walking the halls to Eoin's office.

He felt very much like he was in school again as he entered the office. Van knocked at the edge of the door and offering the man inside a friendly, yet apologetic smile. "Good afternoon Lord Macnair. Have you got a moment?"

Rock N Roll Suicide

Originally he had seen his future career to be in Law Enforcement, in upholding the ideals and the laws that kept their days running smoothly and getting that hit of adrenaline from taking someone down. Back then though that had been the only part of his life he'd really had control over so it had made sense to him to want to pursue such a career. But as with anything else, change came, and he had to change with it. Aurors were called out at any and all hours when they were required and after his Dad had been half blinded... that wasn't really the best option for him anymore. The job no longer fit the man so the man left. But he never left the Ministry; Switching department's had been an easier decision that looking for work elsewhere, not to mention he enjoyed the work provided by the Ministry as well. It meant the territory stayed the same, but the players changed. Choosing work in the Accidents and Catastrophes department... that had been spur of the moment. Just for the thrill. Knowing no two cases would be alike and he's always be kept on his toes. And steadily he had stuck at it and risen through the ranks until he got the seat he had held now for nearly two decades, and he didn't want for a different position.

However, Eoin hadn't taken the job expecting to see his friend's son- his nephew, though not by blood- nearly every other week. And that... that was trying. Growing a little more repetitive by each time until it became more of a routine and a social call than something truly serious. Oh, he still got pulled up for it; Van was a public menace and it was his job to try and crack down on that. But the lack of spite behind Val's actions meant that he was no longer angry at him so much as increasingly disappointed and despairing. After every long weekend he just knew his nephew's name would be waiting for him on his desk, or an owl would reach him wherever he was alerting him to the disturbance. Never the same situation twice, but always the same faces and the same names. Neverhad he been so criticising of another band, but the Weird Sisters spin off would have turned him grey had he not already gone so, many years before.

This time was an absolute bloody belter of a mess, and there came no surprise as he'd sent his team to the designated location-alongside the obliviators- to clean it up and contain it. It had been a three day job in the space of 36 hours, and while he hadn't yet sent word to Van or his sister Donna, he was expecting to see the younger Wizard at any minute. This one had almost gone too far and he wasn't quite so calm as he might usually have been. Muggles were infuriating with their new teck-nolo-gee and their internets, their damned phones that had stopped having buttons and now resembled polished thin slates. The carnage had spread far in minutes and by the time his lot had turned up to fix it, it had nearly gone nationwide on their sharing sites. Miniature dragons. That wasn't something that was easily explained away and yet, they had had to come up with something to explain the damages. The actual creatures themselves had been caught and removed from the premises and hundreds of memories had had to be modified. All because of one Wizard's wand and a lack of consideration. Coupled with a lapse of judgement. Sometimes he really had to wonder.

This time he'd been a bit too angry to expressly call the young wizard to his office, but he'd made sure his secretary had made a small memo of it. Eoin had come in early so as to get a headstart on the daunting stack of paperwork the incident had caused and so he missed the signs that his dear nephew had indeed made the trip until he appeared at his door and knocked. Blue eyes rose from his covered desk and narrowed slightly, doing a lightning fast sweep of the man by sheer reflex, and then sat back in his seat to look at him in the eye. Had he made these kinds of mistakes, his father would have torn him a new one and drummed it out of him before it really got underway. But Van... Van wasn't him, and his Dad was a good friend of his. Allowances were made but even they could only really do so much before steps had to be taken and actions had to be made to rectify and deal with the problem. By this point Van should have had a record of a size that would require it's own filing cabinet, but much had been passed under the table and handled internally. Sometimes he wondered if Van even knew or thought about half of it everytime he decided to cause mayhem.

"...Lord Parkinson. Come in, shut the door." He finally replied, returning his quill to its inkwell and sitting back. Gesturing for him to sit down, he waited to see if he'd do so before he opened his mouth again. "What am I going to do with you, Van? You don't even know half of what you've caused this time."

Take a hit, shoot me down

I won't ever hit the ground

Van couldn't see what the big deal was. They were just dragons! Little dragons. It wasn't as though he had set loose a full grown Hungarian Horntail. Now THAT would have made a pretty great show! Imagine the shock and awe that would inspire, not just from muggles but from everyone. It would be legendary. His band could go down in Rock and Roll history as the sickest wizarding band known to man! It would be sort of a shame, though. Only holding the title for the wizarding world. If only the muggles knew what they'd be missing. He knew, of course, that the fact muggles had been involved changed things. They weren't used to dragons of any size, and he knew full well that they were never supposed see them. They were a secret, one that was kept in the wizarding world alone. Up until Saturday, that is. 

This wasn't the first fuck up that Van had instigated, nor would it be the last. He had been lucky time and time again to escape serious trouble. It had a lot to do with his last name, and he knew it. His father had been well known and respected. How Van had managed to come from such a man remained a mystery. He was well know, too. But for very different reasons. Mainly, he was known for being the menace to society that he had always been. His father had tried for ages to straighten him out, put him back on the path he had laid for his family. Van fought him every step of the way, and after he passed he no longer needed to fight. He could be exactly who he wanted to be and his father wasn't there to stop him. Or scold him. Or kick him out again. And he was lucky to have a mother sweet enough to love him regardless of his antics.

Donna hated him for it in a way, but she too loved him. Since his father's passing he found Donna had been there to pick up the slack, nagging him as his old man had before. Someone had to, he supposed, or he would end up in worse places than Eoin's office. It was a wonder how he hadn't had his wand revoked, snapped in half right before his eyes, or that they hadn't all ganged together and burned him at the steak. Like the old'n days. That would be a pretty bad ass way to go, actually. He could die a musical martyr, like Kurt Cobain. Talk about goals.

Making the walk of shame to Eoin's office was not 'goals', far from it. Van tried his best to put on a nice act and tried his best not to piss the man off more than he already was every time Van showed his face. He needed to make sure his band came first to his pride and arrogance. It was hard. Damn, it was hard. But he would do it. For Tib, for Genesis even. For the band. He could already tell that today would be especially difficult, judging from Eoin's narrowed eyes. He was in for an earful at the very least. The man had gestured for him to sit and he obeyed begrudgingly. No sooner than he had sat did the man start on him and it took every muscle in his body working against his eye's want to roll into oblivion. His face contorted into a slightly cocky smile.

"Well, my lord, whatever I may have caused I'm sure you're lovely department of...." He swiveled in the seat to catch a glance at the door. Maybe there would be a label or something. Damn, nothing. He knew it was something clean up... Or was he only thinking that because of the running joke? The one about Eoin being the head of the Van-Clean-Up Committee. He couldn't bloody remember! "You're department is handling it. And very well, I might add. Nothing you guys can't take care of." Van sprawled back in the chair and bit at his thumb nail anxiously. His ass kissing ability was running low and he knew it wouldn't likely carry him far. Especially when the urge to vomit at the words was kicking in. Why didn't Tib come this time? Damn him! "I think we could, you know...just be thankful that it was handled so efficiently. We prom- I promise, we'll be better next time." 

You're too old to lose it, too young to choose it
And the clock waits so patiently on your song

Eoin had dealt with so many things since taking the position as the Department head. He had pulled in a whole team of Mediizard's and Witches after some rowdy- and thick- teens had tried engorgio charms on a box full of blast ended skrewts. He had fixed an entire business after their charmed elevators decided to stop letting people off and took to whizzing around at top speed through their assigned chambers, endangering the lives dozens of employees. But he had never had to shut down a massive venue because someone he knew all too well had decided to unleash mayhem in the form of small dragons upon a horde of unsuspecting and drunk muggles. Even the original band The Weird Sisters hadn't been this bad, and they'd set fire to venue's full of fireworks to kick of their tours. No one had been inside those venues, though. And Muggles understood fireworks. They did not understand flying, fire-breathing lizards.

If he hadn't already gone grey, Eoin thought that Van could have caused him to single-handedly. He was a vast contrast to his sister Donna; they were like chalk and cheese, and Van was the chalk. Unpalatable, messy, and hard to get rid of. He often wondered if he could get through a week without a folder containing the younger Wizard's name on it landing on his desk, yet time upon number he was proven that no, in fact, he could not. How his predecessor had put up with it, he didn't know. If anything, perhaps that was why the man had retired in the first place, to get away from the menace. On one hand he wanted to laugh. Laugh at the helplessness of stopping the Wizard, short of locking him up for a spell- which he couldn't do, because of his ties to the boy's father. And he was also furious. The bloke was driving him mad. It was like talking to a wall when it came to him, and he got about as much of a response as he'd expect from the stationary bricks.

He was resigned to the fact that... nothing could surprise him anymore. This was his life. This was always going to happen, and so there was no point in truly reacting anymore. So he could use the time to catch up with him and find out how the family was doing or he could bin him back out into the street to royally fuck up once more. It was easy enough a decision; one resulted in less paperwork for a spell, even if said spell was so short lived it was almost not there at all. Perhaps one day he'd just push him off into the Auror department and let Yaxley or someone else deal with him. It just wasn't today. Because that was even more paperwork than a standard case, and he didn't want anything... permanent befalling him.

If he had the power behind him, he'd have split up the band. He couldn't stand there music anyway so it wasn't like he'd be putting himself out in anyway. All that stopped him was the possibility of the problems getting worse, or them playing in seedier places and putting even more people at risk. Not themselves- they were big enough and ugly enough to look after themselves. But the other people that they inflicted themselves upon didn't deserve it, and so for the good of the people and whatnot he swallowed his chagrin and his annoyance as best he could. Far from making things pleasant, as pleasantries could come later. This time he would let his not-quite-nephew know just how far he had gone.

His eyes closed slowly as Van forgot the name of the department, and let out a heavy breath through his nose. He had had no expectation. None. Literally zilch. Nada. And still he was disappointed. And let down. Pressing his palms together in front of his nose, his eyes opened again to look up at the ceiling while he found some more inner strength. The younger Wizard didn't even have the delicacy to be subtle about it; like everything else he was brash and bold, and a little obnoxious. "My Department. The Auror Department. The Obliviators. The Department that protects the statute of secrecy that you seem hellbent on destroying..." He listed blandly, checking them off as his head tilted a little from side to side. "Oh it is being handled. No less than five hundred muggles saw your stunt. That's five hundred memories that needed modified. There are damages still to repair. There were injuries. Arrests. And yet here you sit, as blasé as can be, because I'm not willing to throw away the key on you."

Looking down at his desk, he picked up a small sheaf of papers and tossed them to Van's side of the desk. "This time you've been fined, and you will pay it if you want to leave my office anytime soon. Your bandmates have been banned from entering this Department while you're in it today, so don't expect on anyone swooping in to get you. Like last time. And the time before that. And all appointments have been forwarded on and rescheduled by my secretary, so there's no need to dash off either." Slowly, he lowered his hands back to his desk. Then he smiled... and then he laughed, shaking his head. Oh, how he knew this would change nothing. Next week, around the same time, Van would be back in here. He would have done something else, if not worse than the time previous. Just one time, he'd have liked to have seen a different face from the band. To see if any of them were actually worth talking to. With Van he just knew his words went in one ear and came whistling back out the other. "You need to learn, Van, that some things? They're too far. And this one, was too far. I'm beginning to lose my patience with you."

feel like i'm destined

i don't need no smith & weston, no
man, who you testin?
fuck a scantron, here's your lesson

Today had promised to be a God awful day right from the start. He had known for days about the meeting his mother had set up, not that he had intended to go. She wanted him to meet his brother's betrothed and for what? What fucking reason? So that he would know her name at family Christmas? Let's be real here, even that little meeting wasn't going to solidify that in his head. He didn't care. He didn't care about their upcoming wedding. He didn't care that she would be related to him or a permenent fixture in their family from now until forever. He just did not give a shit, and he didn't think he could ever bring himself to. The only reason he had attended at all was to keep in his mother's good graces. She was a kind woman, too kind for her own good when it came to forgiving Van, and he did not want to see her hurt by his actions. Especially not when she would most certainly hear of his antics this past weekend.

No, he had known that the gig this weekend had went a little....far. Farther than it should have, perhaps. Still, it had been pretty bloody amazing. He would most certainly hold the memory of shredding that guitar solo to the screams of a crowd cheering both for them and for the dragons in his heart forever. Maybe not so much the part after....with the screaming in fear. And the scrambling, he would forget that as well. But those first five minutes? Fucking. Brilliant. His mother certainly wouldn't have agreed, nor would she when she would find out. He knew that. She would be about as happy about it as Eoin was. So, in order to hopefully balance the odds into his favor he had attended the damn luncheon.

That had been both a wonderful experience and a horrible decision. He hadn't really went in with any expectations of liking his brother's soon to be wife. In fact, he had went in planning fully to make her hate him so that he may never have to attend another damn luncheon again! He was good at that, driving people away, something about his personality could be... Well. He was an arse-hat at times, OK? He wasn't expecting the girl to be as attractive as she was nor was he anticipating her having been an ex-fling of his. Somehow the two had ended up going back to his flat to reenact that old fling. Woops. Nothing says 'welcome to the family' like a good ol' romp with your brother's betrothed. The whole ordeal had actually swayed his attitude to one of cheerfulness, if only for a moment. Then he recalled where he was headed next. 


The Auror Department. The Obliviators. The Department that protects the statute of secrecy that you seem hellbent on destroying... Van was mocking like hell in his brain but didn't dare do it outwardly. He was going to be as professional as he could possibly be. Which was very, very little. The way he saw it the bloke should just be happy he came in at all to rectify his actions. He could have easily just went back to sleep at his flat, maybe had another romp, maybe moseyed into a bar and got shit faced again. But no, against his better judgement, he was here. Staring Eoin right in the face. Facing his mistakes, like a man. Like a very...very hungover man. The man spoke of his screw up sounding very impassioned and quite loud to his aching brain. Van pinched at the bridge of his nose rubbing it and wishing like absolute hell that Tib had come instead. 

"Five hundred," he snorted somewhat amused. "Well, that's quite the turn out. Unfortunate, really, so many minds for your obliviator department." Van drew in a sharp breath and dropped his hand and tried his best to look engaged in the words Eoin spoke. He knew that he was lucky when it came to his past, his issues with getting into trouble and what not. Anyone else would likely have been locked up for the stunts he pulled but he managed to escape any major issues. Thank the Gods. Eoin, however annoyed with Van, at least had the heart to not to throw away the key on him yet. "I understand, Lord Macnair, and you know how grateful I am for that. I'm sure if my father were here, God rest his soul, he would be grateful as well."

Oh how Myles would likely roll in his grave if he had been able to hear that comment. More likely than not he'd have risen from the dead and told Eoin to drop the hammer on his idiotic son. He had been a hard man; he was stern and unyielding when it came to his beliefs. He had tried his best to turn Van to his side, but Van was unyielding in his own beliefs as well. Like father, like son. Since his father wasn't there to encourage his son's punishment he received a much lesser punishment. Eoin had tossed papers his way and, with a sigh, Van leaned forward glancing at them briefly. A fine? Really? A fine? "Hmm," he swished his lips, patting at his clothing. "Seems I've left my check book elsewhere. You know what," he said rising to his feet, patting at his jeans.

"I think I've left it at home. I could just run quick--" he thumbed over his shoulder. He knew that his little excuse likely wouldn't get him far but damn it he was hopeful! Far more hopeful than he aught to be and part of him knew it. This time he would pay for his actions. Literally pay. In cha-ching. FUCK! Why hadn't he sent Tib?! Van stumbled on, trying to further the sentiment he was trying to enact. "I agree, I really do! Things went...too far. And I appreciate you're patience. Really, truly, I do. And I will gladly pay the fine. Once I get my checkbook." Or maybe in a million years. "Unless, of course, you accept a muggle Mastercard?" Merlin have mercy he was utterly ridiculous when he wanted to be.

Time takes a cigarette
Puts it in your mouth
The wall-to-wall is calling
It lingers, then you forget

Perhaps most of his problems with Van stemmed from the fact that Eoin himself had never had the opportunity to act out, do rash things and just be all out reckless very often. He'd always had to be the sensible one that was always composed and ready for the worst, braced for impact. His teenage years were focused on keeping his sister Heather safe while in Hogwarts and trying to make his parents proud as he was pronounced a Gryffindor instead of a Slytherin, and also with trying to find a job. Then, it had been University, and trying to become the best auror he could. There had been no time for pranks and purposeful mistakes and mess. Walden would probably have killed him on the spot if he even tried in a time where he was out of school and it was that healthy respect that kept him in line. He understood the reasons for rules and for boundaries just as he knew when to exploit them and break them. Hogwarts... he had done some stupid things when in that castle. But he had grown out of it and become someone who knew when to and when not to do things. Van... Van had never taken that lesson on board. The Wizard was in his thirties, now, and was still acting like a hormonal teenager with a drinking and wand permit. He didn't care about the consequences because there had never really been any. And Eoin wasn't going to be the one to change that, because if nothing else he had promised the boy's father that he'd look out for both of his kids before he went. It would just be nice if even just one month could go by, without half of the Ministry's departments having to get involved.

He could see the reasoning behind it. He could imagine the wave of euphoria the band had probably been riding when things got out of hand and all hell broke loose. Accidents happened. But this wasn't just a one-of situation, and just as soon as he finished talking Van had already dismissed and forgotten what he'd said and was off to do something worse so really there was no point in even opening his mouth. Bringing Donna in wasn't going to help things either, as had she had a potent affect on her brother it would have shown before now. It was just so merlin damned frustrating! The laddie couldn't even walk in a straight line half the time let alone look after himself and that was concerning at best. He was allowed to walk around society as he pleased- though he was a known menace- and nothing ever came of the things he did. Eoin swept them all under the carpet as far as the paperwork was concerned, and half the time his department had to be paid overtime just to make up for the trouble he put them all through. He loved Van and Donna- they were basically his niece and nephew- but hell, if he didn't sometimes wish he hadn't known their father so his hands weren't so tied. Nothing that left Van's mouth was ever genuine... it was always just the expected reply and it was treated as such. Once it was out he had already moved past it, no inflection behind it, and headed towards getting to leave to do it all over again. His patience had already worn to being threadbare over the lad. What more could actually be done?

So... if nothing else, perhaps it was time to alert their sole other living relative that seemed to have any kind of hold over her son. Tara had come this far without killing either of the siblings, so he had to have some kind of belief that something would be done. Eoin picked up his quill and jotted it down on a memo, barely glancing up as he did so.  The thing was... even though he complained- mentally- about it until he was practically blue in the face and wanted things to change, there was nothing he wouldn't do for either of them. Even if Van managed to blow up a stadium full of muggles somehow, Eoin would find a way to get him the hell out of dodge, even if it meant breaking a few laws, just to keep him safe. And he didn't think Van knew or understood that fully. If he did, he was further lost a cause than he had thought, not to mention a little conceited. There was virtually no respect here. Eoin had lost nearly all of his towards Van, and he didn't know if there had ever been any on the younger Wizard's side. A typical family, these days, complete with rivalries, scandals and cripples. What joys. At least the others in the Parkinson family weren't as far gone as this, had some hope for redemption, unlike Van who could be believed to stay like this well into his 11th decade of being alive. Hopefully he'd be long gone by then so he wouldn't have to deal with it anymore, or else he very well snap and find that key to throw away on him.

The hangover wasn't lost on him, and as Van pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down he allowed himself a second to grin wickedly in response while his gaze was averted. Still, karma did like to work in her own mysterious way, so if he could make this as excruciating as the ton of paperwork he had waiting for him, then he would take it as a win. Serves the bloke for getting absolutely rat-arsed. And not taking a pepper-up potion before this little meeting. It wasn't like he hadn't had the time- he knew that he'd attended a fanciful luncheon for the engagement of his brother, and there were plenty of opportunities he could have had to take one had he thought ahead. A-ha! Case in point; Van never thought ahead. He flew by the seat of his pants until it landed him somewhere like here, and then he wallowed. In a way, it was hilarious. A thought in the back of his mind mentioned the fact that Van might have tried to skip this... but then, he doubted Van was really that dense. After all the damages, infractions of the law and carnage? He could have contacted Yaxley and had him dispatch a couple aurors to bring him in. Or, since he had been one in the past, he'd have went and fetched him himself, which would have been even less pleasant. He was an utter pain in the ass, and unfortunately, he was one of Eoin's favourite 'nephews'. 

"Hey, could have been worse, right?" he asked sarcastically, raising his brows as a smile rose to play about his mouth, "The other two hundred that were too far inebriated and stoned to know which way was up let alone that you had set a hoard of dragons loose were sent on their way with no trouble. Silver linings, hm?" He wasn't an ogre. He'd have liked nothing more than to sit back and ask unofficial questions on it all, how it had went and what it had been like. But unfortunately, he had a job to do, and that job was the exact opposite of that. Perhaps if he ran into him outside the Ministry, he could let this drop. There was no malice behind anything Val did, the man just didn't think before he acted, and it got him into trouble. He laughed finally, shaking his head as he brought his gaze back to focus on him. "If Myles were still alive right now, he'd flay you. Or would have given me the permission to. You wouldn't be any better off; it's you who should be grateful, as he's all that's standing between me making this a serious case- making any of these serious cases. That, and the fact that I was around when you grew up so I can't do it even if I wanted to."

Eoin sat back as Van did exactly what he'd expected him to do, his eyes now practically gleaming with amusement as he made no move to actually prevent the other wizard from trying to leave. He got the whole charade; the patting, the expression, the excuse and promise. Even the agreeing and acquiescence. Even if he tried to go, the door was sealed and warded against eavesdroppers, so until Eoin verbally let him go or physically got up to open the door, it wouldn't open. Client confidentiality had to be protected to the maximum, of course, hence the dire measures to protect the room from anyone entering... or leaving. "Muggle mastercard? I'm afraid not, no. And it's truly a shame that you don't have your checkbook either- but it's of no matter. Hey, don't sweat it, alright?" he finally replied, sitting upright and making his own show of moving around files and folders until he pulled up an official Gringotts form and picked back up his quill, ushering flippantly with a hand for Van just to remain seated where he was. "These things happen. Consider it already taken care of- I'll just fill this out with the official Ministry seal and send it off with the rest of the afternoon's paperwork. The goblins at Gringotts will take it out of your vault for you..." he trailed off, dotting a few eyes and crossing the last of his t's before looking up again with a pleasant smile.

"Really, I'm just glad to hear you agreeing for once. Matter solved. Next time, the fine will be heftier, but that's nothing you don't already expect or can't handle." Eoin added, signing off his signature and melting some wax in a pan over a nearby candle. Then he paused and looked up, expression serious once more, and he lowered the wax towards the envelope he'd slipped the form inside. "You enjoy playing games, right? Well here's one of mine; we're going to see how many times you get fined until you either end up bankrupt or start to lessen up. That's fair, right? I mean, after everything I have done to keep you out of prison, what's a little bit of gold?"

                                                                1718 words

YOU SAY THAT MUSIC'S FOR THE BIRDS,
AND YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND THE WORDS?

WELL, HONEY, IF YOU DID,
YOU'D REALLY BLOW YOUR LID,
'CAUSE, BABY, THAT IS ROCK AND ROLL.

Van should have known it would have eventually lead to something like this. Sure, Eoin couldn't lock him up in good conscience, not with his ties to his father, but there were other options floating about. He could have put him on house arrest and he was thankful it had never come to that. Being a musician was his livelihood and Merlin knows how broke he'd have been without it. He may have been a Parkinson by name but he didn't have the money behind it. Not anymore, anyways. His father had made sure to disown him properly, even wrote him out of the damn will. Van didn't care about any of that. He didn't want nor did he need the money or the title or whatever else Myles had taken from him. And to be quite honest, he was quite happy to have been stripped of that damn title. Van didn't want to be the lord, not now not ever. Michael was younger than him but much more suited for it. In a lot of ways Michael was like their father, and those were ways that Van had never been. Never could be, he didn't think.

Aside from house arrest there were options such as probation, make him check in every once in a while-- Merlin knows no one in their right mind would want that! Van couldn't say for sure but he thought when it came right down to it Eoin didn't want to see him as much as he hadn't wanted to see Eoin! This little dance they did, however amusing, was all but infuriating at the same time. Van didn't want to be there, didn't care-- and Eoin, who had to care by rights of his very job, had to try and knock it through his head one way or another. Well, today might have very well been the day that it might have finally started sinking in. For on this day the option of the fine had finally come into play. 

Van nearly snorted as Eoin spoke sarcastically of the severity of his little incident. If it hadn't been so noticeably thick he might have thought the old man was finally seeing it his way. "I suppose you're right, it could have been much worse. Thank the Gods for alcohol and a good time. I'll make sure to rally for heavier drinking at our next show. Perhaps it'll save you trouble of having to obliviate so many-- if there ever comes to be a next time that I screw up." Which there would be. Van painted an amused smile on his own face trying to determine which would be higher: paying for drinks for a crowd of five hundred, or the next possible fine he'd be getting when and if ever came to sit at Eoin's desk again. Van nipped anxiously at the pad of this thumb hoping that maybe next time Tib would come. Or maybe Rob. Could he convince Rob to do it? Hm...

"Yes, Lord MacNair--" Van sighed heavily, the thickness of sarcasm now present in his own voice. "I am so very grateful that my father is dead and unable to flay me alive. Or at least not alive to order you to flay me alive, or hit me with the books-- or whatever the damn saying is." Oh Merlin, there was that last bit of professionalism, hanging by a thread. He was quite proud of himself for having lasted this long. Was it possibly a new record? How much longer could he possibly keep it going? Hopefully long enough to get the hell out of this office. Oh how he hated offices. His career boggart would have looked something like an office, had a career boggart been a thing. This one, coupled with Eoin's voice, couples with the alcohol from his lunch with Cat AND the alcohol from last night, was making his stomach churn.

Van had gotten up, done his little charade, hoping with far too much gusto that it might have worked. He wanted out of there. And without having to pay...yeah, that would have been nice. Eoin was no idiot, not matter how much Van wanted him to be. That much became clear when he had taken to giving the handle of his office a jiggle trying to make his escape to, what was it again? Oh yeah. 'Get his checkbook'. Did he even have a blood checkbook? No, he didn't think so. He turned his attention, somewhat perplexed, back at Eoin as he spoke and made a show of shuffling around some papers. Could he apparate out of here? Hm, he didn't think so. No, wait, he couldn't. Remember that one time Van? Just looked foolish for trying. Fuck, he didn't think he was going to get out of it this time.

Somewhat defeated Van took back his seat as Eoin had gestured him to do. "Brilliant," he said shortly, looking all around the chair and not at all at Eoin. He could feel the annoyance of it all brewing up in him but, still, he tried to not be his typical asshole self. Merlin forbid he did and the fine got higher. Surely, Eoin had more than one envelope on that damn desk if he needed to remove the paperwork from the old and write a few more zeros on the end of that number. "You know, we could have just saved a lot of time and energy. Could have mailed it out for me." He shrugged. Did he have time after this to go empty his account? Maybe if he rushed. Like, really rushed. "But then we've have missed out on such a lovely little chat." A smile as fake as he could muster appeared on his face as he let out another sigh.

Fair? FAIR? Van could feel the last of his patience wearing thin, thinner than even the thread of professionalism he had left. How could this possibly be fair? Was this not practically robbery? He was being robbed, by government officials, for what? Having fun? Van crossed his arms against his chest tightly as he ran his tongue against his teeth from inside his mouth. Fair, this hardly seemed fair. "I do so enjoy a good game, you're absolutely right." The sarcasm from before returned and he thought once again of clearing out his Gringott's account. Not that it would matter, the damn thing would just be a debt to his name that he'd have to pay eventually. "The question is, as part of this game, what happens after I go bankrupt? I mean, are you planning to fine me into debt or is the flaying you promised earlier finally going to come tor fruition?" Van huffed a slight laugh though it wasn't really funny. Either was he was surely fucked. "If it's the flaying I'll be sure to dress more appropriately--" he flapped the edges of his jacket, observing his outfit, "--something that'll come off easier, I suppose? Taking all this off would only delay the game. Where'd be the fun in that?." And watch out world! Smart ass Van had finally come to town!

You Don't Eat When You've Lived Too Long

Chev brakes are snarling as you stumble across the road
But the day breaks instead, so you hurry home
Don't let the sun blast your shadow
Don't let the milk float ride your mind
You're so natural, religiously unkind

He'd still lived a pretty eventful life, though. Eoin may have been carrying a weight of regrets with him enough to have starting turning him grey in his late thirties but that was why he was the way he was. He knew his mistakes and his failings as well as the parts of his past that he'd never recover from well enough to get on with his life, even if he still had nightmares some nights and couldn't sleep in others, left sitting up and staring at a wall while he thought them all over. The point was that no one knew his demons except for him. No one alive knew him as well as they thought they did, not even his father. And that had been entirely deliberate; Eoin didn't walk around in life looking like he'd went ten rounds with the whole host of Azkaban's dementors simply because it was no one else's business and life went on. There were things that needed his attention and there were people that needed him, so he couldn't allow himself the luxury of just wallowing in self pity and hatred. As far as things had gone... he'd always done the best he could. And surely that had to count for something? Even if he hadn't gotten married in the end to Flora because neither of them had wanted it and had never stopped long enough to find another Witch to make a home with. Even if he didn't have kids though he'd have liked one or two, due to that as well. He was who he was and he was content with it... or at least, he was making his peace with it. Some things were never going to change and that was simply a fact of life.

While Van's father had disowned him... he had always loved the boy. Eoin had grown to as well while the younger Wizard had been growing up and now he couldn't just turn his back on the lad. Even if sometimes he really, really wanted to. Family didn't end in blood and he had never given up on anyone yet. No one that hadn't walked out and left, that is. Heather wasn't someone he was actively looking out for anymore and hadn't been for decades, wherever the bitch had gone, she didn't even factor into it. His family were through his cousins and their kids, or just his friends. Eoin was glad to say he at least had that much, if nothing else. He had about a century- or just under- still to go in life if his health didn't bail on him and technically he wasn't even middle aged yet. Still plenty of time for him to get married and have a family of his own if he got round to it. Rodolphus and his missus Andromeda had had a kid recently and they were older than him, so he was remaining optimistic. If by optimistic, he meant that he wasn't actually thinking about it in an active manner. Unless a particularly interesting Witch all but landed in his lap soon then that much probably wasn't going to change. He had a half blind father to keep in fair spirits since Walden had gotten out of Azkaban and his work to be getting on with. What even were holidays? Eoin hadn't taken one since... Well, he'd never taken one. Ever. Holidays were just time wasted elsewhere that he could use for his work, as accidents and catastrophes weren't going to just hit pause until he got back. And while he trusted his department to be able to handle things without him he preferred the way he did things to the way they did things. 

He'd like to have said that he liked The Weird Sisters II's music... but he'd have been a liar if he even tried. In some ways he was very much a traditionalist, was very set in his ways, and while music had come forward Eoin hadn't come all that forward with it. There were a few bands he didn't mind. But it didn't matter about his opinion of the band's music as he never actually had anything to do with them until Van started breaking laws and causing absolute chaos and havoc to run amok in the streets for him to fix. He hadn't even met all the members in the band yet and doubted he ever would- he didn't think he wanted to, Tiberius and Van were enough already whenever he saw either of them as it was- so at least there'd be slightly less paperwork in the end. Regardless, however, he knew all of their names. He knew their residences. He knew everything he needed to do about every single one of them just in case they'd end up being the ones sitting in his office with him instead of Van for a change. But he'd grown wise to the boy's antics. Boy's... Van hadn't been a boy for a couple of decades now, himself. He never came into these things alone if he could help it hence Eoin had taken precautions this time to make sure it was a one on one little chat. Eventually, he would stop having a go at the younger man so he could get to the part of finding out how everyone was and if there was anything anyone was needing help with. But first he had to do his job. Rightly or wrongly, he had to do that much. Otherwise he'd have been sitting in the wrong chair and the wrong office.

"Well if I ever doubted that you wanted to kill your fans with fun, then you've now cleared that up for me," he retorted blandly, making another scribble on his memo sheet."And we both know there will be a next time, Van, so there's no point in going into that. You know... I really don't get you. You're not a teenager anymore, you haven't been for nearly twelve years. Yet you act like one, who just moved out of his parents house and realised he had free reign with his magic. Call me optimistic, but I'd have thought you'd have grown up a bit by now." He then laughed, leaning back in his seat as it reclined slightly with him, turning to address the open air beside him. Who was he to judge? Maybe in this day and age people were actually attracted to overgrown kids. Eoin wouldn't know. He hadn't met another quite like Van in his life... the man was a bit of an anomaly. Whatever road he'd have preferred his nephew to have taken instead, that wasn't his choice, and it had never been his place. He knew all about stage personalities... but this was actually who Van was on a daily basis. There wasn't a time where the guy switched it off and could be a grown up about things properly- he already had a pretty solid feeling that even when he feigned doing so that his mind wasn't on the task. It was frustrating... but he had to accept him for who he was. His work never would and so they'd never cease doing this dance for as long as both of them lived with Van doing his usual capers and shenanigans. Had it just been down to Eoin alone, he'd have just signed him off as a lost cause and have been done with it so he could just be 'Uncle Eoin' instead of 'Lord Macnair' to the bloke. This had to be about as fun for Van as it was for him.

"You meant 'Throw the book at you', but regardless. Besides... I've never lifted my hands against you your entire life. I won't do so, either. Everyone has their lines in the sand where things are a bit too much." He said quietly, watching him for a long moment before looking back down at the papers in front of him. There were plenty who hadn't done nearly as much as Van who had served worse punishments, and he knew that Van had become spoiled in knowing that such reprimands would never be delivered onto him. It was like a family joke every time he was pulled in here, only to slide back out the door as if attached to a retracting cord. This was always merely formalities, as without it Eoin would have been seen as inept at his job and have been removed from the department long before now. Constantly helping Van out always threatened to jeopardise his job yet each and every time he followed suit, along with the previously trampled path that they were both well practiced in. Why did he even bother. Perhaps a cold, hard shock of reality would do wonders to the system for Van and he'd finally wake up from whatever dream world he lived in. While Van played the game of 'what's the worst I can do next', Eoin's game was 'How long until my patience disappears completely'. It wasn't that Eoin one hundred percent could not do anything. It was just that he chose not to in honour of the boy's father, and from watching him grow up. If things went too far... it wouldn't even be Eoin's department anymore. It would be Yaxley's. And then, Eoin wouldn't have nearly as much clout or as many strings that he could pull to get him free.

Eoin made sure to mirror his fake smile, showing a flash of teeth. "I am so glad that at least both of us enjoy our time spent together, talking about what a walking disaster you are. Imagine how awkward it would be if we actually both loathed it." He finished up with his paperwork and set the sheathes to the side. "And no, actually, I couldn't. See, these specific little letters are a... well, last ditch effort. Once one of these puppies are sent off and processed, I'd never have to see you again. I'd just send the fines straight to Gringotts without ever having to say anything to you first, and you'd only realise when the money disappeared from your vault. And then if you emptied it... well, things wouldn't be very pretty. But I'm sure it'll never come to that." He added, fixing his bright baby blues on the wizard across his desk from him. Not that he would ever take the money without telling him, as he didn't think that was fair. This was the part of his job that he didn't enjoy. He didn't like cornering people. But Van had gone too far this time- the dragons could have caused serious harm let alone damage, and there could have been casualties. And Van didn't seem to care about that. Whatever else he may be, he wasn't willing to let the boy become a murderer.

He grit his teeth, and suddenly all trace of humour vanished from Eoin's face and person. His eyes were practically shining daggers across the desk now, fighting to stay as calm as he usually was. He'd never shouted at Van, not ever. He didn't believe in shouting. But merlin, did he want to reach for his wand. "Joke's over, Van. Unless you actually want to serve time or end up in a lot more shit than you're currently in. Stop wearing your ass for a hat for a second and actually open up those damn things on either side of your head. Did it even occur to you that your little stunt might have killed someone? Multiple someones? Do you ever use that brain of yours to think that it's not just your ass on the line every time you fuck up, but it's mine as well?" He finally managed, standing from his seat and sliding his hands into his pockets to keep a handle on himself. "I do nothing but bail your ass out every single damned time. And you don't even care. There're no thanks, not even an acknowledgement. This fine? It's the lightest slap on your wrist I can issue without jeopardising my job here, and if I go, then there won't be anything stopping you from serving time for being a public menace, as well as a danger to yourself and the general public. For countless counts of terrorism, Van. I don't pull you in here because I enjoy it or because I want to stop you from having fun. But unfortunately, this world doesn't revolve around you and I have to be seen to actually try and keep people safe. Yaxley hasn't seen any of your serious acts because I know for a fact he would have taken this further."

He pulled a hand down his face, covering his mouth with a finger as he held his jaw and looked away to the wall. This wasn't how he had wanted this to go. It really wasn't. "I don't want to fight with you, mate. But every time you try to circumvent me, you tie my hands even further. Is it too much to ask, to ask you to think once in a while?"

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2190 Words | Tag: @ Van | Notes: Sorry, he flipped </3
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