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Priscilla Halburton-Smythe

Land Without Magic

My Content
Mar 3 2018, 11:10 AM
Siobhan rolled the muscles in her neck as she reviewed the case-file in front of her. Lachlan McLean. War veteran who was paralyzed in active duty. Well, Shiv had seen her fair share of veterans, they always seemed to be a little more difficult than the children, because you could tell a child everything was going to be alright, a war vet, especially one wounded in combat conditions? Yeah, that never went over very well. Flipping a page over, she went on reading the note previous social workers had left on him – disinterested in help, refusal of help, stubborn. Well, that was nothing new – not to her at least. Shiv sat back then, contemplating the best way to approach this case. The two of them, Mr. McLean and her, had an appointment today, that much was true, and she never really liked going into initial meetings with any prior thoughts about the person. Sure, she could trust the words in front of her, where others had tried, but she rather liked forming her own opinion about people.

Closing the manila file folder, she pulled a yellow post-it note from it’s holder and slapped it on the front, her pen quickly scratching out the time of their appointment as she went on to the next file to review – child placement with a relative after some sort of family blow up. She needed to field this to another case-worker. Grabbing the folder and her coffee cup, she left her office, heading into the main area, and into her co-worker’s domain, speaking briefly about the case, and seeing that they would follow up on it today. She needed to keep her afternoon open for her new one, but child safety was priority one, which meant making sure that someone else who had the capacity was able to take the case for review. That taken care of she wandered into the kitchenette at the office, tilting another cup of coffee into her mug “Be the person your dog thinks you are.” Emblazoned in gold script on a sea green background, a hold over reminder from the little yorkie she had before – her passing still preventing her from getting another companion animal, even if Shiv knew that a dog would help keep her grounded. She did too much work with the public, a companion animal wouldn’t be suited to her lifestyle at the moment, but who knew, maybe one day.

Sipping the black joy that now was keeping her going, she went back to her office, checking the time. Talking to her co-worker had taken longer than she realized, and Mr. McLean would be there soon. Sitting back, she waited patiently, checking over some other case files as she did. Some time later she looked at the clock, realizing that her appointment had never shown. Frowning, she checked the time in her log once again – no, he was now an hour late. Shiv sighed – so he was going to be one of those. Well, no matter – she had kept her day open for just such a case. Grabbing the file folder, her cell phone and keys, she dumped the items into her bag and then checked in with her supervisor – she was going to have to go out on this one.

The file had said he was staying at the local homeless shelter – and so that’s where Shiv headed first, hoping her hunch that he had just forgotten what day his appointment was for was right. Upon arrival, she checked in with the front desk, flashing her Department of People Services badge at the window, proof of who she was and what she was doing there. Clipping the badge to the lapel of her navy pea coat, she started to wander the shelter. Red hair and a wheelchair couldn’t be that hard to miss.

Hamish Macbeth
Mar 1 2018, 08:13 PM
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<h1>Siobhan Glass</h1>

<div class="n-p-main">
<h3>Priscilla Halburton-Smythe.</h3>
<h2>Cursed Personality:</h2>
Siobhan, or Shiv as some of her co-workers call her, is a very kind, caring individual, always seeking out to take care of those around her, believing that she was put in the right place to do the most good in life. Incredibly cheerful, she doesn’t let anything thrown her way get her down – even trying to “turn those frowns upside down!”. She knew early in life that the best way to help was going to be as a social worker, being a champion of those who couldn’t do it for themselves. While she sometimes struggles with the finer aspects of her chosen profession (“why do we have to be so formal all the time... let’s just talk this out”), she might have been better as a counselor, or even a therapist, but Shiv knew that true reform happens when you can place a set of keys in someone’s hand, tell them they have a home, and that help would always be available. From very early in the morning, to very late at night, she works on trying to make sure that everyone has the basic comforts taken care of – even going out of her way and volunteering her time at the local soup kitchen and homeless shelter on her off days. She truly is that good of a person, both inside and out.
<h2>Cursed Life:</h2>
Shiv spent her formative schooling years working hard towards her Masters Degree, and she is a licensed MSW, working closely with the homeless and needy in the Hyperion Heights area of the city. She remembers her parents fondly, having lost them both a few years back, one right after the other, their love for one another not letting them be parted, even in death. While their deaths meant taking a semester off her schooling to properly grieve, she still graduated with honors, ahead of schedule. After that, Shiv fell into the comfortable routine of working with her clients and the local population during the week, her evening spin classes after, and her volunteer work on the weekend. As focused as she is on trying to help as many people as possible, she doesn’t have much of a social life, preferring to spend the bulk of the time on others than herself – even if she does occasionally skip out a weekend of volunteer work to go and pamper herself.

Dec 29 2017, 09:55 AM
Christmas was only a few days away, and Priscilla was quite pleased that she had been paired by the town’s Secret Santa with one of her favorite people. Of course, Charlie was no ordinary person – no, the town’s computer science teacher, and regular for pie at the diner. Hands busy wiping down the counter-top, she watched Charlie from across the room. A quick glance at the time told her that her shift would be over about the same time Charlie finished with her meal – if Priscilla was a good judge of what was left on the red-heads plate. After watching people day in, and day out, she rather liked to imagine that she was just that – able to estimate time relatively easily. She had Charlie’s Secret Santa gift, as well as a little small something else secreted away in the back. Tossing the towel into the container they kept for dirties behind the counter, she grabbed a fresh one, dunking it in the cleaning container and giving it a good wring to leave the majority of the water in the pan for the next clean towel to go in.

Moving out from behind the counter, she set to work on the empty tables and booths. She liked to keep things as clean as possible through out her shift, so that when people came in, they were always coming in to a clean table, a warm atmosphere, and warm service. Granny and Ruby had given her so much when she first arrived – had taken such good care of her and Hamish too over the past months, that Priscilla liked showing her appreciation by making sure that the Diner was kept in top condition the entire time. It was their baby, after all, and Priscilla would feel like a bad employee, and even worse friend if she didn’t show the same consideration to it as they did. Glancing up at the clock, she nodded as the next waitress on duty came out from the back, and then headed back to wash her hands up and grab her things. Taking the pie plate out from the kitchen, and the small, gaily wrapped gift, she made her way back out front, and to Charlie.

”Mind if I join you?” She asked the red-head, her faint English accented voice tinged with a hint of mischief as she wanted for a response.

Charlie Bradbury
Nov 24 2017, 09:40 PM
Priscilla Halburton-Smythe was no slack when it came to work. In fact, she rather prided herself on being such a hard worker. Sure, she had grown up to privilege, but here, here in Storybrooke, she was just another person, just like everyone else. She had grown rather fond of the town quickly, having Hamish here and on the mend was exciting – not having to be part of the aristocracy was a quick second to him. She was here, with her copper, her favorite dogs, a small flat, a great job that had her meeting new people all the time, paid what she needed to get by, and allowed her time to laze around with Hamish in the evening time when she wasn’t working the weekend rushes.

Best part? Ruby and her grandmother. Sure, the well-known Granny didn’t owe either of them anything – she didn’t have too, but Priscilla loved her all the same for her no-nonsense, no-bullshit attitude. And Ruby, Ruby was the crown jewel for Priscilla. The other woman was close in age, and was equal parts strong and day-dreamer at the same time. Priscilla adored her – and today was no exception either. As Priscilla started to bus the lunch rush plates back into the kitchen to be scrubbed up and made ready for dinner, she realized just how lucky she was. She had everything she never knew she wanted, including budding friendships with some of the town’s residents, like the brunette she had been thinking about just a moment ago.

”Hey Ruby?” She asked, balancing plates and bowls on her arms as she made her way back into the kitchen to drop them off in the sink to be washed. ”I was thinking, maybe this Friday, if you and Victor aren’t doing anything of course, how’d you like to go and get a drink?” Priscilla had been juggling around the idea of asking Ruby for a drink after work, to get the know her better on a personal level. Sure, they interacted a lot there at the diner when their shifts overlapped, like today, but she really wanted to be friends with the brunette woman – more so than anyone Priscilla had met back home. Ruby was the type of person Priscilla always thought she’d like to be more like. Easy to smile, true to herself, and completely up-front about everything. All things that Priscilla had to work to be when she was home. She constantly hid behind a carefully crafted smile, mired her own self down under the façade that was the General’s daughter – the local landowner – the Princess of Lochdubh. Well here, there were real princesses, she was still the General’s daughter, but he wasn’t here to constantly throw himself around, so… Priscilla could be Priscilla. Or at least, she rather thought she could be.

”Just a fun little thing for us. I’ve been nearly starving for a good gossip and pint with some good company.”

Ruby Lucas
Aug 7 2017, 06:28 PM
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Her feet were aching again, darn trainers pinching her heels as she moved across the floor to deliver the latest order up. It was a quiet evening, not too many people out, and she kept coffee cups filled, and dishes cleared away. She had waited tables at her family home several times when one of the wait staff had called out sick, or needed to be pulled away to another task, so the work wasn’t new to her. In fact, it was refreshing after spending most of her time sat in front of a computer writing code. Free-lance programming – what she had done before Storybrooke – had made her go mad at times, especially when after hours of writing her code wouldn’t compile correctly and she had to spend several hours at a time going back and hunting down the one rogue line that had caused the failure.<br><br>
No, waiting tables was honest, hard work. The type of work that made her happy to have two good feet and two good hands. She dodged someone rising out of a booth too quickly, going back behind the counter to grab a wash rag to wipe down the just vacated table and bus the plates away. She never worried about tips, she took them when offered, but she knew that many people were just trying to make their way in a land that was completely unfamiliar to them, so she never sweated it when someone didn’t leave one. Her service never changed – efficient, pleasant, with minimal interruptions. She would chat with those that gathered at the counter top – they mainly sat there when they wanted conversation, couples in booths she would try to leave alone for the better part of their meal, only interrupting to refill drinks. Singles or someone reading or working on homework was left alone unless they started to get fidgety – then she’d come over and ask if they wanted something else to give them the appropriate distraction that they could blame on her and not waning attention span on a subject that they needed a break from. <br><br>
It was turning out to be just like any other evening, just how Priscilla liked it.

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