baedalites (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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multiversallogs2012-04-14 06:15 pm
baedalites) wrote in multiversallogs2012-04-14 06:15 pm
Entry tags:
- @ mog hill,
- @ mog hill: apache,
- ava lockhart,
- benevenuta crispo,
- benji ryans,
- charles xavier,
- clarice "blink" ferguson,
- deacon frost,
- hal yorke,
- hasibe ozcelik,
- hellboy,
- ilde decima,
- irene adler,
- ivan,
- jae-hyun kim,
- jaime lannister,
- james t. kirk,
- john mitchell,
- kalinda sharma,
- lea bit eshtazin,
- lucius malfoy (sr),
- lyla tzigano,
- odessa wander,
- penelope lane,
- rachel conway,
- raylan givens,
- sally owens,
- sharon "boomer" valerii,
- solomon koenig,
- steve rogers,
- wolfgang einhorn,
- xas,
- { logan,
- } alan shore,
- } alter ego,
- } ana lewis,
- } angela montenegro,
- } barbara gordon,
- } brian stuart,
- } charity burbage,
- } cindy,
- } garrus vakarian,
- } gillian owens,
- } hamilton fish,
- } hermione granger,
- } jane shepard,
- } kate bishop,
- } kiden nixon,
- } laura kinney,
- } marty williams,
- } mycroft holmes,
- } olivia dunham,
- } philomena flores,
- } rex lewis,
- } sebastian lemat,
- } sherlock holmes,
- } stark,
- } stephanie brown,
- } tatiana caban
Noli equi dentes inspicere donati.
Who: EVERYONE.
What: Swap meet.
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Sukkardi the 14th of Haneden
Notes:Warnings: None yet. Please put warnings up on individual threads.
- Swap Meet Spreadsheet: Pre-chosen swaps are green. Assigned are blue. There were a few characters that were selected more than once, so objects were assigned on a first-come first-serve basis. If you have any issues or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact the mod team.
- For objects that might not be immediately apparent as belonging to their owners, there may be a picture or name attached, or players are welcome to have their characters ~just know~ it's for them. Drr drr drr, bb.
- Party post nights are a great time to come join the chatroom.
- The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread.
The Apache is much the same as it always is: dimly lit, with the jukebox playing in the background, and the bartender serving whatever's on tap.
~the outside world, for Lucius Malfoy (Sr)
It's in her bag, protected by various charms, and she's hoping its owner will be at the Apache. Aside from that, she's honestly not thinking, or expecting anything to occur as she tries to get from point A to point B without Apparating, enjoying the time that walking gives her to relax- because as convenient as Apparition is, it's not exactly a good time. For precisely this reasion, her shoes have been Transfigured into flats; she'll turn them back to their former state just outside the door to the Appache. Magic, it's useful.
That's the thing about fighting monsters; after they've gone, you forget to worry so much about other things, hence why the population of Death Eaters isn't causing her so much grief as it was.
...For the moment before she runs into one, that is.
no subject
But all the same, the clip of her magically flat shoes is interrupted by another point of audible punctuation; the tap of a cane, following on from silent Apparition. He is dressed with the intention for being presentable in public, in case curiousity gets the best of his mood, unlikely as it is when he would rather take care of this now. He is in black, Muggle clothing at a glance until a fullness of sleeve or an angle of lapel is noted for having a little more flare than the average coat, subtle differences that mark him as such appropriately, as if he needed help in this regard.
He's also had a rough week. A rough year, or more. He wears it as visibly as he wears his coat, and the evidence of recently having had a scrap only serves as emphasis. But one thing that hasn't really changed much is his voice, prim, vaguely nasal, nails on a chalkboard to many;
"Hermione Granger. How long has it been?"
He is holding a book. It's tucked under an arm.
no subject
Her hand is already inside her magically-expanded clutch, fingers against the wood of her wand, when she turns to face him- she reminds herself that he was pardoned, that he's a coward, disgraced and dismissed from society, that he's no threat to her. She also reminds herself that things are not as they were at home, and that his wand is in the handle of that ridiculous cane.
It's strange; she keeps running into people who once terrified her, and still do, but in new ways. Snape. Bellatrix. And now Lucius Malfoy.
But she's not seventeen and trembling anymore-
"Not long enough. For either of us, I should think."
-though her mouth is still prone to getting her into trouble. (Except it isn't rude if she's acknowledged that this dislike- to put it mildly- is mutual, right?) She tilts her chin up as haughtily as she can, though she's distracted; listening for the sounds of anyone he might have brought with him (would Lucius Malfoy attack alone when he must have Bellatrix on his side?) and thinking about where she'll Apparate to if she has to.
"What do you want?" she inquires, crisply and determinedly sharp, though it comes off as rather prissy.
(She's thinking about that bloody chandelier in his bloody drawing room, staring up at it over Bellatrix's shoulder and wondering if she was going to die).
no subject
About something specific, granted. If she is rude, it's-- well, expected, frankly. Lucius isn't going to pretend anything different.
He does answer her, but in his own way and on his own time. "From what I could make of Draco's various assessments of your person--" he starts, shifting the book out from under his arm to grip. It's heavy, his arm tense beneath the weight of it. "--you were, perhaps are, a bookish girl. But I wonder what someone like you would require of a book like this." The haughty look down his nose would probably work better without the bruised split across the bridge of it.
no subject
Two things. One: the gods are cruel. Two: what is that?
Her eyes are glinting, but with worry, not excitement. She'd rather like to point out that the last time he gave anybody a book she ended up Petrified- but silly snarking suddenly seems like a bad idea. She just wants to go. Immediately.
That book doesn't look like something she wants.
"A book like what," she says, too flatly for a question mark, suspicion making her businesslike.
no subject
The book is held out between them, balanced on his palm.
It's the kind of thing he might, admittedly, keep for himself, but he's contented himself with a brisk page through, not exactly lacking in this department.