(no subject)

[thedreamthief]

Working for Luke wasn't the most thrilling thing, but it was easy and it gave him something to do every now and then. The animals didn't need constant 24-hour care; after their morning feeding and some general cleaning of the barn, there wasn't all that much Ronan needed to do. With Cabeswater protecting them, there wasn't much they couldn't do on their own.

Plus, time spent at Graymark meant, usually, time spent getting into trouble with Jack. Often, that was the highlight to Ronan's day.

But first he had to get to Graymark. The truck was loaded up with boxes from the warehouse on the other side of town and Ronan had the music blasting and the windows rolled down. He caught a few glares at nearly every stoplight, which was just how he liked it, blowing kisses at a few here and there and simply scowling at others. It probably wasn't the best thing to do while on the clock but Luke's truck didn't have any markings for the business and Ronan at least wasn't violating any traffic laws.

At least not until Chainsaw, who had decided to join him in the cab, started fucking with the volume knob on the radio.

"Little shit," he snarled as she jumped up onto the gearshift to poke at the knob hard enough to turn it to the left. Reaching over, Ronan turned it right back up again and Chainsaw swiveled her head to stare at him with her dark beady eyes.

Ronan glared right back.

Until a flash of something out the corner of his eye caught his attention, a flash of something small and possibly furry dashing into the street. Right in front of him.

Slamming on the breaks, Ronan cursed and Chainsaw spread her wings with a terrified kerah! The truck was too big, too wieldy to stop on a dime and the screech of tires on asphalt rang in Ronan's ear as he braced himself to feel a horrifying thump.

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[thedreamthief]

"To what?" Ronan asked with a scowl. He could only take a guess on what that word might mean and, frankly, it didn't sound great.

He glanced up at said crowd, at the nosy, beady eyes on both sides of the street and his lips pulled back in a sharper snarl. "Hey, what are you fucktards looking at? Mind your own goddamn business!"

It seemed to knock sense into most of the crowd, people guiltily averting their eyes and carrying on their way. One middle-aged guy yelled back, which prompted Ronan to flip his middle finger, but in only moments, the crowd had scattered and Ronan's attention was on the willowy British guy and his small furry friend.

He nodded back at the truck. "You can talk while I drive," he suggested as Chainsaw once again dropped down to perch on his shoulder.

[somethingwild]

Newt manages not to jump at the volume of the young man's voice and to at least cast some Obliviation spells on the dispersing crowd in the process, holding the squirming Niffler to him. He misses people, he knows, which will likely come back to bite him in the ass later, he supposes.

"Obliviate," he explains, trying to ignore the pain in his leg. "To make people forget what they saw. It's how we keep non-magical folks from discovering magic, back home."

Newt eyes the truck warily, still unused to all the modern, Muggle vehicles clogging up the roads.

"Fine," he agrees in a friendly a tone as he can manage, scooping up the Niffler close as he makes his way over to the truck.

[thedreamthief]

It really wasn't any surprise to learn the guy was a wizard, but it didn't really alleviate any of Ronan's suspicion for him. Scowling still, he yanked open the driver's side door and climbed in, Chainsaw fluttering in ahead to perch atop the dashboard.

"Does it hurt them?" he asked, as he leaned over to unlook the passenger's side door. He didn't bothering waiting for an answer before adding, "Don't you fucking do it on me."

He stuck the keys in the ignition then, the engine rumbling to life. "And talk."

[somethingwild]

"No, of course not," Newt replies, his voice firm even in spite of its quiet volume. "It's quite peaceful, actually." He wonders if this man has any other facial expression besides scowling. He also decides he rather likes not being punched in the face, so instead of asking such a question out loud, he focuses on the Raven perched on the dashboard. "Beautiful bird," he says.

"I'm not planning on it," Newt says, against his better instincts. He needs as few witnesses to the appearance of magic as possible.

"What do you want to know?" He asks.

[thedreamthief]

As though clearly understanding him, Chainsaw chirped in reply, spreading her wings out as Ronan rolled his eyes and yanked the truck into gear and started back on the road. Graymark was only a few miles away but, depending on what this guy had to share, Ronan thought he might take the scenic route.

"I want to know what that is," he said, nodding at the creature still held tight to Newt's chest, the one that was almost definitely not any ordinary mole. "And why the fuck you need to obliviate anyone," he added, the emphasis on the word making it clear just how suspicious he found the whole thing.

He paused then before adding, his tone a bit more subdued. "Might not hurt to know your name, too."

[somethingwild]

Newt smiles as the raven spreads its wings, as though pleased with his compliment. He doesn't miss the man rolling his eyes, either, an expression that seems as at home on his facial expressions along with the scowling.

In his arms, the Niffler tilts his head, studying the stranger in his own way. Newt hopes desperately the man has nothing shiny laying about in his motor vehicle.

"This is a Niffler," he explains, holding the creature up a bit, while maintaining a steady grip on him. "He rather likes gold and shiny things, so I hope you have nothing of the sort about you. He's prone to make a mess of things in the name of all things glitter."

He sombers at the mention of the forgetting spell. "I Obliviate Muggles because they aren't supposed to know about these sorts of things. The International Statue of Secrey forbids it," he says. He eyes Ronan. "I should Obliviate you too." He sighs. "But I've broken the Statue more times than I can count since arriving here," he shakes his head.

"I'm Newt. Newt Scamander. I'm a Magizoologist," he says. "I study magical creatures for a living. And who might you be?"

[thedreamthief]

The little mole-like thing, the Niffler stared up at Ronan when he glanced over again, gaze catching on a pair of tiny, beady eyes. It was kind of cute in a strange way, struggling slightly against the hold the Newt guy had on it.

Eyebrow arched, Ronan looked over at Chainsaw again, who still remained perched atop the dashboard.

"Sounds like he and Chainsaw here have something in common," he remarked with no small amount of disapproval. He'd yet to find Chainsaw's stash of shiny objects in Cabeswater though he had a feeling it was hidden up in the rafters of the barn, high enough for him not to easily reach.

He didn't remark on the obliviate thing again, caught instead on the word Muggle. It was one he knew though it took him a moment to remember why. Either Newt here actually was a wizard from the world of Harry Potter or he was fucking crazy; Ronan knew he'd find out which it was sooner rather than later.

"I'm Ronan," he said instead, still glancing a suspicious eye over at Newt as he drove. "Lynch. I'm a farmer. And part-time bookstore employee." It wasn't untrue, but Ronan had a feeling the statement might surprise Newt a bit. The idea nearly made him smile. "What kind of living can you make here with a title like that?"

[somethingwild]

"Oh really?" Newt says, glancing from Chainsaw to the Niffler, and back again. The corners of his mouth twitch at the sound of disapproval in Ronan's voice, the sort of disapproval he knows too well from his many experiences with his Niffler. "Well, they'll get on right as rain, it sounds like. Or fight each other for gold, perhaps."

"A farmer?" He perks up at that, curious and delighted by the mention of such an occupation. "I grew up on a farm, myself. My mother breeds Hippogriffs, you see." Likely, his experience of farming differs drastically from Ronan's, but it's neat to see that have something in common, regardless.

"And part-time book associate, on top of that," he muses out loud, surprised by this second occupation. Ronan doesn't seem much like a bookish sort of person; he would have expected construction, or something else of that nature.

"Not much of one," Newt admits. "I've been working out at The Beanstalk, offering my services as a wizard to those who need it. I have to make a living to feed my creatures, and I have relatively no Muggle skills to speak of, so." He shrugs.

[thedreamthief]

Ronan only had the very vaguest idea of what a Hippogriff might be, but given what he'd seen of Newt already, he could imagine some sort of immense magical creature easily enough. Maybe a hippopotamus with wings. His lips quirked into a small smile at the thought and he shook his head.

"Don't have anything like that. Just chickens and llamas and shit." In truth, Ronan still wanted to get more, but he had other shit to take care of first. And he'd promised Adam that he'd keep the dream animals to a minimum.

Newt seemed happy enough to keep talking, and Ronan hid a grin at the surprise in his voice before arching an eyebrow. "What's the Beanstalk?" he asked because, even after nearly two years here, that was a place he hadn't heard of. "And what sort of magical skills do people require here anyway?"

[somethingwild]

"Well chickens and llamas are quite fascinating creatures in their own right, too," Newt says, curious what this farm of Ronan's looks like, with such animals roaming about. He hasn't had much of a chance to study Muggle farms beyond occasionally chasing through them after his Niffler.

"Well, The Beanstalk is a pub, near the Necropolis, if you know that area at all?" He says. "It's a place of questionable morals, mostly. And specifically catering to those with magical abilities and those who know people with magical abilities."

"Healing potions," Newt says. "Charms to help with their gardens. Other wizards might sell more dubious wares, but I try to help people, if I can."

[thedreamthief]

As far as Ronan was concerned, chickens and llamas were quite fascinating. Just about every animal Ronan had ever met, dreamt or otherwise, was more interesting than nearly any human he'd met. Newt, at least, was proving to be different, though. But wizards were different from ordinary people, obviously.

That, and he couldn't imagine Newt at Aglionby, which was a point in his favor.

"Been in that area, yeah," he said with a nod, wondering if they would serve him. He wasn't a wizard, but he was arguably magical.

But he kept that to himself for now.

He was silent for a moment, taking a right turn down a different street before he glanced over at Newt once again. "What kind of charms? And how much do you charge?"

[somethingwild]

"It's a nice place, once you get used it," Newt says with a fond smile. "And the smell of dried blood, among other oders." Some of which make him wince even recalling them. But nothing a fragrance charm or two couldn't at least mask for the duration of his time at the Beanstalk.

"Cheering charms," Newt says. "Charms to help with the upkeep of gardens. Charms to help keep homes clean. Repairing charms. Useful magic, mostly."

"I charge what people can afford," he says with a shrug. "I sell my magic so that I can take care of the creatures in my care."

[thedreamthief]

It sounded all very peasant, very helpful and benign. And seemed to fit what little Ronan knew of this somewhat unassuming man so far.

He alluded to there being more than the little Niffler he held in his arms and Ronan glanced down at the case at the man's feet before turning his attention back to the road. Curiosity gnawed at him as he neared Graymark, but he kept quite until he pulled into the lot at the back, concentrated on back up close to the door before shoving the truck into park.

"Creatures," he said finally, once again nodding down at the case. "How many do you have then? And what do you do with them? Do you have to feed them? Take them on walks?"

[somethingwild]

Newt realizes he probably shouldn't have mentioned his other creatures almost as soon as the words leave his mouth. As far as he knows, this man is a Muggle, and he should Obliviate him, in keeping with the laws of his world.

But he isn't in his world, and this man has already seen the Niffler. Newt's shoulders sag. Another strike against him in breaking the Statue of Secrecy. He shouldn't bother keeping count, at the rate that he's going.

They ride in silence until they reach the parking lot of a familiar bookstore, where Newt met Jack awhile ago.

"I have a numerous amount," he admits, because, truthfully, he cares for more creatures than he can count, what with all the breeding that goes on in his case. "I nurture them and care for them. Rehabilitate them. If they can go back to their natural habitats in the wild, I release them. If not, they stay with me."

"They have space, where they are," he says. "But I do like to walk with them. Helps me clear my mind, sometimes."

[thedreamthief]

"So you have your own farm?" Ronan asked, still trying to figure it all out. A wizard probably didn't need one, probably had some way of making all the animals invisible or the space for them secret from ordinary people like Ronan. Not that Ronan was all that ordinary. But Newt hadn't mentioned a farm or really any place he kept them. And Ronan had a feeling that a mid-sized city in the middle of North America wasn't exactly a natural habitat for anything.

Except maybe the duck-billed mole thing.

Chainsaw, from her perch on the dashboard, seemed equally curious, letting out an inquisitive little kerah! before hopping down to land on Newt's knee. She tipped her head this way and that as she waddled closer, and pecked at the front of Newt's shirt lightly, clearly looking for something.