multiversallogs | blind man on a canyon's edge

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blind man on a canyon's edge

Who: Lucius Malfoy (Sr) and Lucius Malfoy (Jr)
What: There isn't any such thing as boundaries when you also know alohomora.
Where: The Malfoy residence; Lucius Jr's office.
When: Now.

It was a nice day and from what Lucius could tell, one that was relatively quiet.

The office wasn't locked when he initially tested the door, but that possibly might not have stopped him from entering regardless. Kept as neatly as he expected it to be, with minor touches and details that Lucius fancied felt unsettlingly familiar. Cane rested against desk, he picks his way through the books and looser pages upon its surface with abstract curiousity - a curiousity he wasn't aware he even had until he entered the room. There's nothing feverish or even aimed about his casual perusal over his younger analogue's work and professional life - it's casual, lacks direction, but brims full of handsy entitlement that has him opening drawers, fingers in filing cabinets.

He settles in a chair with some documentation that looks particularly interesting, leaning back into it with a leg crossed over the other. At the very least, he had ceased to wear any clothing that belonged to the younger man after Narcissa had brought him back the required articles. Accepting charity-- no matter what they said about it-- is a chafing thing, but.

If they considered him entitled to it, Lucius had declined to correct them. Or limit said entitlement.

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There's no point in being startled or anything. Lucius barely even looks up. Footsteps out in the hallway were heard well before, in any event, met only with a small amount of dismay that they would be obliged to engage in conversation now, for all that Lucius does not rush into it. He finishes reading the sentence he is on, before glancing up.

"No, nothing in particular."

He reaches to collect his cane back in hand, never quite feeling safe to have it not be when someone else is in the room. Even if it's himself. The pages of what he's reading flip loosely in gesture. "Did you have any recommendations?"

"I could create a reading list," he says, almost a bit dry, "but I imagine you've read most of the books I would recommend." Har har, Lucius.

Coming in a little further, he considers his older self. "If you were curious about what I was doing, you could have simply asked." He is doing his best to rule his temper; no one else (possibly Narcissa) would notice even a hint of it, but he always feels he's at a disadvantage with this man.

"Yes, Lucius, I am quite aware."

Closing up the file, it's tossed back upon the desk without Lucius doing anything like standing up. "Ignoring simple social practice does not denote forgetfulness, but please, patronise me a little more." There's a knife edge of a half-smile, for all that any mirth it might represent never makes it to his eyes. "Besides, perhaps I was doing you courtesy."

"I'm not the one being patronizing," he counters, very evenly. "But pray, you seem determined to instruct me. What sort of courtesy were you doing me?"

"The one where you are not obligated to endure conversation more than necessary. It doesn't offend me," Lucius adds, absently scuffing off mystery speck of dirt from the open muzzle of snake cane without actually taking his eyes off his counterpart. "And I suspect it's quite natural."

Unless you're Narcissas.

"That is, of course, you always worked as late and as often as you do since my arrival. But it doesn't quite seem like me."

Lucius considers denying it, then shrugs and closes his study door. "If it makes you feel any better, your arrival isn't the only reason, but yes, it was one of them. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't be willing to make an effort if you wanted one. I've just noticed that you don't seem to have much faith in my perceptiveness or in my abilities, and neither of us likes being spoken down to."

The closing of the door-- of all things-- has his smirk dimming some, wolfishly pale eyed glance lancing past the other Lucius, but it's schooled away in the next moment, attention back up and perfectly neutral. "Perhaps I was more frank and forward when I was young," he states - demonstrating frank forwardness, contrarily, but nonetheless. "I don't honestly recall. But I also tend to believe you can discover more about a man through your own investigation than through that which he chooses to tell you."

He sets cane against the ground but still sees no reason to get out of office chair, adjusting the turn of it a little to compensate where Lucius stands now.

"I'm certainly learning by observation that I should be warding anything I wish to keep private," he says, slightly dry. "Well, since you've clearly been here some time, is there anything you'd like to ask about?"

He feels, at this point, he may as well offer.

"Your CiD device."

That probably wasn't what Lucius Jr. meant. But at least Lucius Sr. is indeed addressing the more pressing thing on his mind, which is a lot like honesty.

"I require brief use of it tomorrow. I misplaced my own during my first few days, and considering that owls and Floo Networks do not appear to be favoured methods of communication, I'm looking into replacing it. But I need yours specifically, if you would be so kind."

The request takes him off guard, and he hesitates slightly, but only very slightly. "Yes, alright. That should be fine, though I'll need it when I leave the house." Lucius is wary, but attempting to do right by his guest.

This is met with some silence, but there is literally nothing to object to. So, Lucius raises an eyebrow and nods once, shortly, his gratitude, as well as confirmation that he won't have the other man go without. Then, he levers himself up to stand, pushing the chair back into place and scanning once the papers he mussed without particular remorse, simply renewed interest.

"Tell me of your current work," he invites, without looking up. It's probably the most civil he's been, and certainly so today. "And perhaps, also, what you know of the fog."

Lucius nods, and comes to sit. "I don't know as much about the fog as I'd like; mainly hearsay. A group of those in our cohort ventured in soon after I arrived. They reported unnatural creatures and a feeling of malaise bordering on insanity." He gestures at his notes. "During the incident with the giant ants, some afflicted, including the younger Narcissa, felt a compulsion, somewhat but not exactly like the Imperius, to go to the fog. I prevented her; I have not heard with certainty of others who went and returned after."

"Curious."

There's no sense in batting an eye at 'giant ants'. It's strange by wizarding standards, but Lucius has gotten used to not applying wizarding standards to this particular world. "By the sound of it, it doesn't coincide very much with your..." Carefully placed beat of pause of judgment goes here with exception to his tone, which is neutral. "...career. And day to day business.

"If you are working from hearsay, in any event." He glances from desktop to younger analogue for raised eyebrow confirmation.

"The fog itself does not, no." Quieter, he adds, "Rodolphus went with that first group. If you can get him to say anything about it, he might know more."

He hasn't missed that judgment, but he's trying his best not to pick a fight.

"Oh, that won't be necessary." Lucius has, allegedly, obtained the information he required, if his easy dismissal of the rest of the conversation is anything to count by. Which is, apparently, that this Lucius has nothing at all to do with the fog and the profiteering that comes of it.

Most satisfactory. He is wry when he adds; "I expect you'd like me to leave before you collect whatever it is you've forgotten on your way out again."

"You can use the room," he says, "but I can't say I'm thrilled at the continued prospect of you rifling through my papers, on principle. Why do you ask, about the fog?"

Lucius did invite such a reply; and it's annoying anyway, irritation written into a line at his brow when he glances towards the younger man. "You shan't need to bother with wards," is a lot like promise to ~not do it again~, without actually being so. The implication could just as easily be, I bet I could dismantle them in half the time, after all. But if junior is not pressing for especial reassurance, senior is not rushing to give it to him.

And as for that question--

"Intellectual curiousity. You're never too old to learn about new things, you know."

He doesn't expect to be coddled, but even if his alternate doesn't have any self-respect left, Lucius is still going to be damned if he doesn't eke out some minimal respect for himself.

"So I hear." Lucius studies the older man, not quite sure he's ready to let it go at that. Finally, he says, "There are decent libraries, considering. Nothing terribly useful, and of course nothing about getting out, but there are some accounts, about the fog."

"Mm. The libraries have been recommended to me previously."

This is where Lucius might give him a hard time about fraternising with Harry bloody Potter, but perhaps that's better left for another argument. Besides, Lucius could do without the reminder that his personal resentment of Potter is somewhat after this Lucius' time, for all that it is well within Sebastian's.

The end of his cane drags along the ground a few inches as he turns to leave the other where he is. What he intends to do about the fog may be shared when he knows he isn't going to back out of it or fail at it, and he isn't staying to be asked any more despite his indifference as to the privacy of his younger counterpart. "Don't be late for work on my account, now," is mocking chide as he heads for out at a stroll.

Lucius briefly wonders if he has always been such a bloody asshole, but he doesn't voice the thought. He lets him go with the longsuffering expression of an adult child forced to deal with an adult parent (an experience, granted, that Lucius has never actually had).

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blind man on a canyon's edge

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